


What is Left Undone

by robinasnyder



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An expansion of The Season of Grace Comming out of the Void by Min Daae. Saetan rescues Daemon and Lucivar from Terreille when they are still boys, but at what price? What will Saetan crossing his honor cost him in the end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Season of Grace Coming Out of the Void](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/14287) by Min Daae. 



Lucivar was just old enough to have finished his training, just old enough to have been very hurt, and just old enough to have started to learned to fight in the way that would define him in another life. Daemon had long sense passed that point. Both were old enough to make their offering now, just on the edge of adulthood, though still on the edge. Neither had made that jump, embraced the power that was rightfully there's.

Saetan understood, he had been an adult, well past the age that most men made the offering, Andulvar had word Ebon-gray for maybe a hundred years or maybe two hundred before Saetan made his… right in the middle of his work as Witch's Consort… and then everything had changed. Saetan understood the burden, understood why his sons would wait. He also understood that maybe they simply hadn't been able to because of the tight control they'd been under.

He didn't know, he didn't ask, he simply went. He'd been a fool when he'd allowed Dorothea to flatter him into siring another child, and twice a fool when he'd seen Luthvian through her virgin night without being sure she was on a contraceptive brew. But none of his errors or follies or mistakes came close to the one he'd made years later at Daemon's birthright ceremony, when he'd walked away.

It hadn't been Tersa who had denied paternity, but Dorothea who had done it. Tersa would never. Luthvian did, but she regretted it when she was unable to care for her own son. They'd both regretted it. So many years had passed, so many things had been done to those boys. What made him do it now?

He wasn't sure. He'd sat at his desk, staring at his portrait of Cassandra, just wondering whether or not he should go and get his sons, if it would mean anything or matter at this point, as he had done so many, many times. And then a thought came to him, a still, quiet voice whispering in his ear. _You have wasted years where it could have mattered. How many more will you waste?_

He's always hidden behind his honor, the thing he couldn't break, but there was a grave he no longer visited under a tree that had long since died in the garden of a house that no longer existed that reminded him that sometimes honor and right had to be sacrificed for something dearer. He'd crossed a line that day, and it terrified him… but he'd crossed another line by refusing (instead of simply being unable) to protect his children, his boys.

He was not as spry as he had been when his third son had been murdered, when a place named Zuulaman still existed, but he was still just as powerful. It wouldn't take a lot… especially not if Prothvar and Andulvar were willing to help him. A black widow's web with a black jewel chip would hide them even from Dorothea and Heketah. It would be so easy… he would only kill those who stood in the way of him getting to his boys… maybe more if his temper was pushed, but that was why Andulvar and Prothvar would be there, to help him keep his mind. He didn't want another Zuulaman. He didn't want a war. He wanted his sons, and he would do anything to get them.

* * *

It was simple to get Lucivar, he was still in Askavi and Pyrthian only wore Opal and was arrogant as her race allowed. He didn't kill her. She didn't get in his way. Lucivar was in the slave stables. He quietly passed through the walls and abducted the young man. A slip of a sleeping spell kept him under and Prothvar took him to The Hall in hell to rest. The spell would last for a few days, at which point he'd move them to Kaeleer, but first he had to get Daemon.

Askavi wasn't close to Hayll, but Daemon wasn't in Hayll, he was with a far younger race. Abducting him was just as easy, if not more so. No one guarded him, secure in the knowledge that the Ring of Obedience controlled the young man who was just becoming known as The Sadist. Another sleeping, spell, stronger this time, and both Saetan and Andulvar returned to the Hall in hell.

It was the second part that was more tricky: removing the Rings of Obedience. Saetan didn't have the controlling rings, even a secondary ring would do, but he didn't have it. Being in a different realm weakened the connection. It was just enough, just enough, but he had to work fast of both of his sons would wake in terrible pain. Controlling Rings were made by Black Widows, and Saetan was one of the best, and one of the strongest ever alive. He had to create spell that mirrored the source of the controlling ring and then signaled the rings to loosen enough to come off. It wasn't easy, but it got done.

After that Saetan rested, drained far too much. He slept, something he hadn't had to do in a truly long time, and was greeted when he woke by a cup of fresh blood, courtesy of an offering to the demon dead and Andulvar's instance that he drink it before he was allowed out of bed.

"How are they?" Saetan croaked when he was finally allowed to get up and get dressed.

"Still asleep, and will be since Prothvar added power to the spells like you told him to," he said. "SaDiablo, what in hell are you going to do when they wake up?" Andulvar asked.

"Whatever I can," Saetan said.

"They're going to demand a price for this," Andulvar said, meaning the witches they'd just subverted to get his sons back. They hadn't killed anyone, which soothed Saetan's guilt over what he'd done. He couldn't get involved in another territory, but this was different. These were two children who were neglected and clearly abused who he was rescuing. If he had to he would take them in front of the council in Kaeleer and have them declare him their father legally. Luthvian would protest (she always did), but he didn't care. Tersa wouldn't protest… if they could find her. She'd disappeared so that even Saetan hadn't been able to find her.

"Franlkly, Andulvar, I don't give a shit," Saetan said eloquently, making his Eryien friend smirk.

"Good," Andulvar said. "Alright, time to move them before things go completely to Hell," he said.

"Like they didn't already, nine hundred years ago," Saetan said.

* * *

Lucivar woke first, in a room he didn't know, in a house he didn't know, in a realm he didn't even know. Considering those things, attacking Andulvar may have been the most reasonable thing he could have done. It was a good thing the (far) older Eryien had shielded, though, because Lucivar aimed for the jugular, literally. It was Andulvar's surprised yell that had Prothvar and Saetan in the room in seconds, dragging Lucivar off and back onto the bed.

Lucivar fought like hell and Prothvar had to physically lay on him and force him down with the pressure of the Red jewel he wore. He didn't stop fighting until he saw the Red dangling from Prothvar's neck. "Who are you?" he snarled.

Saetan, who's been kicked in his bad leg and was panting from the pain of it, leaned against the bed post. "Your family," he said.

"I don't have any," Lucivar snarled. "Try again."

"Would you rather I lie?" Saetan asked, knowing this probably wasn't the best way to deal with his son for the first time, but also unable to think up a fully proper response.

"I'd rather you tell, the truth," Lucivar snarled, his eyes fixed on the Haylian. "What, are you trying to use me to get to Sadi, that's not going to work," he said.

"No, I'm not doing that," Saetan said.

"Then who are you?" Lucivar asked.

"I am many things," Saetan said, figuring he might as well get this over with. "I am the High Priest of the Hourglass, I am the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, I am the High Lord of Hell, I am over 50,000 years old, which is 48,300 years too old to be wrestling like that, and I am your father."

"Oh shit," Lucivar said softly. It wasn't the last title that stuck in his mind, in fact, it was probably the first few that really got him worried. He probably didn't even hear the last one. His eyes shot to Prothvar, who was kneeling on the bed, and Andulvar who was looking annoyed at being caught off guard.

"May I also introduce Prince Andulvar Yaslana, and Prince Prothvar Yaslana," he said.

"Oh shit," Lucivar said louder, clearly not having mastered the art of not talking, or simply having realized that he'd tried to bite a chunk out of the neck of Askavi's Demon Prince.

"Now, Lucivar, if your promise not to attack any of us then I can let you up," Prothvar said. "Lucivar," he had to say again, since Lucivar clearly wasn't paying attention well enough. He nodded numbly and sat up slowly when he was finally able to.

The first thing Lucivar did was stretch his wings, then quickly retract them. He seemed wary, curious that such a natural movement didn't earn him a lash. He looked between the three faces in the room, all of them wearing their jewels. All of them far and away able to overpower him. "Where am I?"

"In the family seat, SaDiablo Hall in Dhemlan, in Kaeleer," Saetan said gently, trying not to shock the young Eryien any more than he needed to be.

"Kaeleer," Lucivar said a bit numbly.

"Yes, it exists," Prothvar said, getting it first.

"Family seat?" Lucivar asked, confused, confirming Saetan's suspicions that he really hadn't heard the first time.

"Lucivar, you are my son," Saetan said slowly, making sure that Lucivar was actually looking at him when he said it. When the words finished coming out of his mouth a strong look of distrust and hatred came over Lucivar's face. It hurt, it hurt like hell… but then, what did Saetan expect. He pushed forward. "You've been asleep for about three days. I'll have food sent up for you," he said.

"What do you want from me?" Lucivar asked.

"Right now, you just need to try and adjust. After you've eaten and once Daemon wakes up, you can go and see him," Saetan said.

Lucivar's eyebrows shot up. "Why is Daemon here?"

"Because Daemon is my son as well," he said. If possible the look of hatred only intensified. Saetan sighed heavily. "Just rest, food will arrive shortly," he said and limped to the door. He waited for the Eryiens to follow him out, and once all of them left the room he shut the door.

* * *

Daemon woke up later, but this time Saetan was in the room. He'd been sitting in a chair, rereading the same page for the fifty-seventh time when Daemon's breathing changed. "I know you're awake, Boyo" Saetan said, happy that Daemon at least hadn't tried to attack him, but he was shielded per Andulvar's orders.

Daemon's eyes opened and shifted over to where Saetan sat, and the he sat up. Daemon was still young, but Saetan could see that his son was every bit him, except crueler and colder, with not enough love and acceptance to make up for what terrible parts of the world he'd experienced. "Where am I?" Daemon asked, his voice cold, his eyes a hard yellow, sleepy, glazed, a look that Saetan only remember seeing in the mirror.

He looked up at Daemon over his glasses and then back at his page, staying calm. "You are in Kaeleer, in Dhemlan, in SaDiablo hall," he said. He saw the young man stiffen at the name, relating it to Dorothea first. He still wasn't old enough or experienced enough to have gotten rid of all of his tells.

"I didn't know Dorothea had power in Kaeleer," Daemon said, sounding bored. He accepted that Kaeleer existed quickly, simply because he needed it to get more information.

"She doesn't," Saetan said. "In fact, she doesn't have power in either Dhemlan, or in this realm at all. She also doesn't have power in Hell," he said, speaking more than he needed to because he was nervous. Lucivar had already rejected him, he didn't think Daemon was going to have any easier time accepting him.

"Then why am I here?" Daemon asked. "I assumed that if I was sold to a new owner I would be woken for it, and it would be in a territory where Dorothea had power," he said. He was still young, explaining his deductions, but he was smart too.

"You weren't sold. I'm sure Dorothea will describe it has being kidnapped, or her being robbed, but you are neither property nor kin to her," he said.

"Why am I here?" Daemon asked, a slight chill coming into the room.

"You are here because I brought you, after I went and got you from Terreille," he said. He took a breath and Daemon seemed about to ask the question again but Saetan plunged forward. "I went and got you, because you are my son," he said.

Saetan waited, but no explosion, no attack, nothing happened. Daemon barely even blinked, though his attention seemed to be focused even more on him than it was before. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Saetan Daemon SaDiablo, High Lord of Hell, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, and your father," he said, watching Daemon closely, but again there was no reaction.

"Alright," Daemon said, and recognition was in his hard yellow eyes. Whatever spell Dorothea had put on him to make him forget was brushed away. Daemon believed him, unlike Lucivar who it was very possible did not believe him at all.

"Alright," Saetan said, setting the book he'd been holding down on the coffee table next to him.

"Is this my room?" Daemon asked.

"Yes, it is," Saetan said carefully.

"Then would you mind leaving, I would like to change," Daemon said.

Saetan was caught off guard but he stood, gripping his cane and starting to limp toward the door. "I will send someone up with food," he said, pausing at the door. "Lucivar will probably come to see you when he finds out you're awake," he said.

"Yes, he is my brother, after all," Daemon said. It seemed that he remembered a great deal.

"Yes, he is also my son," Saetan said and left.

* * *

Later Andulvar quiet filled a large glass of brandy each for him and Saetan. "How are you feeling, old son?" he asked, trying to be his normal self, but he was wary. Saetan had been very quiet. He still wasn't speaking. "I saw Lucivar sneaking out to go visit Daemon."

"Of course he would," Saetan said. "He would need to make sure that at least one thing I said was true… and that the one person he knows here is unhurt," he said, looking down at his glass but not drinking.

"How did it go with Daemon?" Andulvar asked, broaching the subject he'd been avoiding before.

"Worse," Saetan said.

"He didn't attack you, did he?" Andulvar asked.

"No, I rather wish he would have," Saetan said, finally taking a sip from his glass.

"What happened?"

"He's very cold," Saetan said. "Cold like me, when I'm nearing my worst," he said.

"Shit," Andulvar said.

"You're starting to sound like Lucivar," Saetan said dryly.

"It can't be too bad if you're still making bad jokes," Andulvar pointed out.

"They're my sons, Andulvar, and they're very hurt boys. I knew they wouldn't just throw their arms around me and accept me… I'm just starting to realize how much of a price I will pay for the how long I waited… and how much they have paid for that time as well," Saetan said.

"Will they heal?" Andulvar asked.

"I wish they will," Saetan said and drain his glass. Andulvar refilled it.


	2. Chapter 2

The problems came quickly for Saetan, not that he didn't expect them to. He made it very clear to his staff that he wasn't taking audiences and that if someone wanted to say something to him they could write him a letter… but that they were not allowed to step foot onto his property. He made this exceedingly clear to a fledgling staff that wasn't used to having a master, and they respected his rules. Letters came first from the Stewards of Dorothea SaDiablo and Prythian, telling him that he had stolen their property and they expected him to return it. He sent a politely worded answer that he knew would have them floundering over their own feet to figure out how to counteract his words.

What they had expected was for him to stick to his honor, they had counted on that as they tortured his boys… and now they'd have to wonder if he wouldn't come after them. Let them wonder. They deserved the fear after what they'd done to his boys. They didn't understand that there were times when a man could not stick to his honor and still be true to who he was. He'd had a choice to make: the lives of his sons, or his honor. Now that he stood on the other side of the choice, he wondered why he'd taken so long to cross that line.

The second wave of trouble came from the Dark Council, inquiring into Dorothea's insistence that he'd broken blood law. He sent Andulvar to handle it, or at least to hold the wolves off for a while. He needed time, as much time as he could get. He didn't want to present his sons to the council if he could help it, but he was well aware that the time could come. Luthvian had denied him paternity, though she would admit to her mistake now (she had admitted it before). Dorothea had denied him paternity, never Tersa. But he was their father, and they'd stopped being raised by anyone a long time ago. They abused his sons. They weren't getting him back. He would destroy two of the long lived races to get that point across if he had to… though he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Things weren't any better with Lucivar and Daemon than they had been when they first arrived. They'd both staked claim to their rooms and the things inside. Daemon, at least, understood to not upset the servants and to allow them into his room to clean. Lucivar did not. None of the servants had spoken to Saetan about it… yet. He couldn't exactly lecture Lucivar, though. Lucivar didn't believe almost anything he said. Daemon seemed to believe everything he said, but didn't trust him at all. He wasn't sure which was worst.

The one good thing was that Lucivar and Daemon seemed to bed getting along. He'd caught them sitting in the garden together… or better to say he'd caught Daemon walking past and then Lucivar following shortly afterward, looking defiant but nervous. Saetan couldn't be sure, but he thought that Lucivar was practicing Eryien drills. Andulvar had told him that he'd caught the young Eryien watching him perform his own drills.

Saetan sighed heavily. He was encouraged that Daemon seemed protecting of Lucivar, but he wished one of them would trust him just a little bit, just enough so he could really help them where they needed it… but…

* * *

Prothvar entered Saetan's study after the sun had set. The hall was dark enough that Guardians and the Demon Dead didn't have to rest during the day, which was why Saetan found the timing to be odd. It became clear from Prothvar's nerves that he'd simply stalled coming until he couldn't put it off any longer. "Yes?" Saetan asked, wondering if he'd have to go the long way around to get the information out of Prothvar.

It turned out that one word was all he needed, though. "Your son is a Black Widow," Prothvar said.

Saetan leaned back in his chair. No need to ask which one. He was just more stunned that he hadn't caught himself earlier. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"He smells like you," Prothvar said.

"He's my son," Saetan pointed out.

"Yes, but there's this hint of something that you have that he does too," Prothvar said.

"And?" Saetan prodded.

"I overheard a servant talking about how she had learned some Black Widow craft before she decided to be a servant here," he said. "She had that same smell, lighter, much lighter, but also feminine. It just hit me because it reminded me of you… and you're the only Black Widow I actually know," Prothvar explained.

Saetan had the distinct feeling that the explaining was really for him and not to assure Prothvar that he was right. Eryiens, as warriors, had to know their enemy. Sometimes they only had seconds to judge. Andulvar had an amazing sense of smell, but Prothvar had always bested him on that front. Saetan didn't need to have his sense be that sharp, but an Eryien, a warrior did. Prothvar had identified something in a Warlord Prince, a Warlord Prince who could easily attack him at any minute and matched him in jewel strength, the same way he would identify an enemy. Prothvar was sure… and he was probably the most able to identify Daemon as a Black Widow because of who and what he was.

"Alright," Saetan said, wondering just how many people would have picked up on that. Saetan liked to think he would have figured it out eventually. But probably no witch, even Dorothea, would be able to identify Daemon for what he was… which meant that it was a secret, he was probably untrained, and they were going to have to have a very, very uncomfortable discussion. "Locate my son, and bring him here. We need to talk."

* * *

Lucivar sat on Daemon's bed, watching Daemon read. He didn't get the allure of books, and Daemon couldn't explain it in a way that made any sense. _That he can go to a new place through a book is bullshit_ , Lucivar thought. Of course, whenever Lucivar expressed such sentiments Daemon would point out that he didn't get why Lucivar liked the Eyrien drills so much either. Lucivar didn't see how he didn't get it. Learning to fight was practical. He'd pushed Daemon into learning the times they'd met before they'd been brought to Kaeleer. He didn't know why, but he'd felt a need to push, annoy, and protect the Haylian boy.

"You really think they're telling the truth?" Lucivar asked.

"I don't think, I know," Daemon said, not looking up from his book.

"How can you know?" Lucivar scoffed.

"They just feel different, so much strong, besides, how many other Eryiens wear Red? None," Daemon said, closing his book to look at Lucivar. "You believe that we're brothers," he said.

"Yes, well that part makes sense," Lucivar said. And it did. It just fit. Not that what the High Lord said about him being his father didn't fit… it seemed right, but that didn't mean a damn thing.

"But you don't believe that they are Anulvar Yaslana, and his grandson, and the High Lord," Daemon said.

"It doesn't seem right," Lucivar said.

"They are far, far stronger than us, stronger than Gray, who else could it be? And they're Demon Dead, or something else," Daemon said. He wasn't sure what Saetan was, but he felt… different from the others and he couldn't place why, not yet.

"Yeah, okay," Lucivar said. It wasn't that Daemon didn't make sense… but it didn't make sense. Why if they were really that powerful did they not come sooner? He wasn't sure that even if they were who they said they were that they weren't actually just like the other people who had hurt him and Daemon. If Andulvar Yaslana, his hero, was like the witches he'd been living with then he was sure he'd just die. He wouldn't be able to stand it. It was easier to think they weren't who they said they were.

There was a rather heavy knock, and the person on the other side waited. Daemon's eyes flicked up to the door and it opened. It wouldn't take a lot of power, but it pushed the edges of what a slave could do. It had been shocking to them both to realize that they no longer wore the Ring of Obedience. It gave Lucivar a bit of hope, but hope was far too dangerous to have. Daemon pushed the boundaries a lot, though neither of then used much more than basic craft still.

Prothvar stood in the door way, but didn't enter. "Daemon, your father wants to speak with you." Lucivar snarled, not wanting Daemon to go alone. "He'll be fine," Prothvar said. "Though I suppose you can follow if you feel like it puppy. No one's going to hurt him," Prothvar said, nearly rolling his eyes.

Prothvar, at least, was easy to get along with. He didn't tippy-toe around either of them, not that Andulvar did either; he just wasn't around. Lucivar was sure that Andulvar had known he was watching him train… but he hadn't stopped, just kept going, as if allowing Lucivar to try and memorize his moves. They weren't that different from what Lucivar had learned, but there was an edge to them… and it made it feel like everything he'd learned was just a bad imitation of how he saw the man move… he wanted Andulvar to be real so badly.

Daemon stood, rising gracefully. Lucivar stood to, not near so graceful, but he wasn't trying to be. He was being protective. He was shielded and wished Daemon was too. Lucivar had shielded the second that the knock came. Daemon hadn't, and it would be too much of an insult for him to do it now. Shielding was how Lucivar pushed the edges.

Prothvar led them both out down the hall. It took some walking to get to their destination, but not that much. Prothvar knocked and then entered. The two young men followed. The room was shaped like a reversed L and lined with bookshelves. Lucivar didn't have to look at Daemon to know that his eyes probably lit up at that. They hadn't explored much, but they had found the library, which if where Daemon had pilfered about three dozen books from.

Lucivar's eyes were drawn to the desk and the man sitting behind it… standing next to Daemon it was hard not to see the resemblance. _This man is his father,_ he thought before feeling a pang of jealousy. He still couldn't, or simply wouldn't believe that this man was his father… but he was jealous that Daemon had someone when he didn't yet.

"When I said bring my son, I only meant one of them," the High Lord said, glancing at Prothvar who shrugged.

"Lucivar wasn't going to let me leave without him," the older Eryien said, shrugging. His fanned out his wings in one, lazy motion that made Lucivar's jealousy spike. Clearly this man had never been in a place where he wasn't allowed to not make such a natural movement.

"I understand," Saetan said, looking Lucivar in the eyes. Lucivar returned his gaze defiantly, as if asking him to say he was wrong, to punish him for not following orders, to drop his façade. "But this is to be a private conversation. I don't think Daemon will want you to hear it. You can Prothvar can wait by the door if you want… though it maybe go rather long, I'm not sure," he said.

Lucivar snarled, not liking how that sounded at all. He was about to protest when Daemon's voice, still young, still not like the adult voice he would have, but still deep and cultured, stopped him. "It will be okay," Daemon said. He didn't need to say more. Lucivar wasn't happy but he turned and walked out. He did stand by the door. He'd be damned if he wasn't close by, just in case.

* * *

Daemon waited until the Eryiens had left before taking a seat in front of the High Lord's desk. "You're not going to hurt Lucivar," he said.

"No, I'm not," Saetan said. "He's Eryien, He's a Warlord Prince, He's your brother, He's worried about you, and I'm a stranger. He has every right to act like that," Saetan said. "But, we're not here to discuss Lucivar, we're here to talk about you."

Daemon's eyes narrowed. "How may I serve you, High Lord?" he asked boredly.

"You're a Black Widow," Saetan said.

Daemon jumped, looked scared for a moment and then covered it with a glare, trying to force his heart to stop hammering so loud he was sure the other man could hear it. "What makes you say that?" he crooned.

"Prothvar identified it," Saetan said. Daemon partially turned back to look at the door, trying not to snarl. He'd guarded the secret since he'd hit puberty. How had the Eryien figured it out? If he was going to be beaten for this he was damn well going to make sure that the Eryien went down to.

"How did he know?" Daemon asked, trying not to snarl.

Saetan sighed and rose, limping around the desk, using the desk for support until he stood in front of Daemon. He held his right hand out, palm up, and flexed his ring finger. The snake tooth slid out. He wasn't watching his hand, though, he was watching his son's face and saw his eyes widen. "Because, I'm afraid it's a trait you inherited from me," Saetan said.

Daemon looked up at him and for just a moment Saetan could almost feel Daemon want for a bond, want for someone who understood him. Then the moment passed and Daemon's cold mask fell back into place. Saetan couldn't help it, he sighed.

"So?" Daemon asked, not sure what this meant for him. He didn't think that Saetan was going to maim him like Dorothea would have. He considered that maybe Saetan would dispose of him to get rid of a potential rival, like Dorothea did. But when he thought of that he couldn't get rid of the image he had in his mind of the man reading him and Lucivar a story, or the memories of being held… being loved. Those memories hurt worse than any others because he knew how it ended.

"So, would you like to be trained as a Black Widow?" Saetan asked.

Daemon felt a jolt go through his body. The only training he'd received since he'd worn the ring was the training he'd received to service the Black Widow Coven, and no more. Everything else he'd learned on his own, gleaned on his own so painstakingly… and it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. "Can I?" Daemon asked, hating how weak his voice sounded, how much he sounded like he really wanted it… but he did really, truly want it.

Saetan smiled sadly and nodded. "Yes," he said. "I'll teach you anything you want," he told him.

"Anything?" Daemon pressed, not sure he believed it… but a chance to learn more craft.

"Anything I know… I've been around for 50,000 years. I'm sure I know something you want to know," he said.

"Craft lessons, real ones?" Daemon pressed. The boy part of him had taken over, the one that craved love and affection, the one that he hid behind his cold mask.

"Yes Boyo, craft lessons, and Black Widow lessons," Saetan said.

"What about Lucivar?" Daemon asked.

"Yes, him too… though I doubt he'll want Black Widow lessons," he shrugged. "Then again, I wasn't a natural Black Widow either, so you never know." He shrugged again. "Though… I think he'd rather have fighting lessons with Andulvar," he said.

Daemon went silent, thinking. Lucivar had wanted to practice a lot recently. It made sense… Andulvar Yaslana, Lucivar would love to learn from him, or to be able to impress him with his skills, anything to get his attention. "Yes, I think he would."

"Then I think you should quietly suggest that Lucivar actually speak to Andulvar the next time he'd spying on him while he's doing his work out," Saetan said. Daemon nearly laughed, nearly smiled, it was in his eyes for a moment, but he got control of himself. He could easily imagine Lucivar spying on the Demon Prince. In fact he knew that Lucivar had, but it was funny to know that Lucivar had gotten caught.

"I will," Daemon said, becoming thoughtful. "When can I start?" he asked suddenly.

"Now if you want," Saetan said. He turned and reached behind him, picking up three books. "I picked these out earlier because I imagined that you'd want to study outside of what I teach you," he said, handing the books to Daemon, who took them, stunned to see real books about Black Widow craft. "we won't start with webs yet, but we'll start with the basics," he said, going around behind his desk. "Drag you chair over here," he said.

Daemon stood and did as he was told, coming to sit next to the High Lord, clutching his books to his chest. He wasn't thinking about all the pain he'd suffered. He thought about being a boy and comforting himself by pretending that Saetan SaDiablo, the High Lord of Hell, was his father and that he'd come and take him away from all his pain… and here that fantasy was true. He thought about his father holding him, telling him stories, singing witchsongs to him in old tongue. And he thought how much of a dream come true it was to be able to learn craft from the High Lord… to be able to learn from his father.

"We'll only work for thirty minutes today, or else Lucivar will probably burst in again," Saetan said, watching his son nod. He opened a forth book to their first page. It was just diagrams, just a teaching tool. "Now, let's talk about your snake tooth," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Aw! Sweet things! Yes, there will be real problems, but I wanted to write some healing. Neither Daemon nor Lucivar are going to get all better, they can't… but they can heal as much as they can, but it will take time.
> 
> Something fun I keep forgetting to say somewhere: I never got the bit with Eryien male names ending with 'ar'. I figured out that Dhemlan and Eryien names are Scandinavian based while Hayllian are Greek. This made sense because of how the three races are set up: two of the three don't have wings; two of the three have darker skin; two of the three have Scandinavian names. The author works well with symbolism, including the Trinity. But when I was looking into Eryien names for _The Pride_ I noticed something about the translation. 'Ar' at the end of the names means 'warrior'. Anne Bishop, I tip my hat to you!


	3. Chapter 3

Over six months passed in the blink of an eye for Saetan. Years faded far too fast for someone as old as him. Time slipped away and before he knew it his boys had been living with him for half a year. There was improvement, for sure. The boys no longer seemed convinced that someone was going to come bother them at night. Both were also starting to act more like children. He'd even accidentally walked in on Daemon and Lucivar having a water fight in the pond in the gardens.

It was times like those that made Saetan so glad that he had gone to get them. Sometimes they just acted like children, acting out in a way that had been forbidden to do and then sometimes they were so cold that few adults could match their serious expressions. Those times made Saetan wish he'd gone back to get them the second those bitches had tried to take the boys from him.

Their lessons were progressing smoothly. Saetan considered sending them to school in Dhemlan, but hadn't decided yet. They weren't his, yet, and until they were he wasn't quite willing to let them out of his domain too much lest they be snatched up again. Besides that, neither Daemon nor Lucivar seemed interested in the outside world just yet.

Daemon was progressing at an incredible speed in his lessons. He'd picked up a lot on his own over the years, but now that he could learn why spells worked he was picking things up even faster than before. The biggest leaps and bounds came from his Black Widow training. He was very daring in his practice. The first time Saetan had to chew him out was over him practicing a much too complicated web without supervision. Lucivar had been in the room at the time and had been looking at him odd ever since.

Lucivar was a problem on his own. He wasn't progressing as fast in craft, though he seemed to have a natural talent for it. Those lessons had picked up when Saetan finally figured out that if he could frame it as something practically that Lucivar would take to it easily. Lucivar thought in practicalities about survival on a battlefield and how something could be useful to him for something. If it wasn't useful then he didn't see the point. Getting through complicated spells that were harder to explain why they were useful to Lucivar was like pulling teeth.

At least he was progressing in fighting. Not that Saetan ever got to see it. Andulvar assured Saetan that Lucivar was very brilliant, probably one of the best students he'd ever had. Lucivar was obviously enthralled with Andulvar. He would copy everything he did and assimilate it into who he was until he was even walking like Andulvar. Saetan had felt a terrible jealousy when he realized that while Lucivar walked like Andulvar he was also walking like himself. Lucivar had changed himself to suit Andulvar and had changed Andulvar's teaching to suit himself. He trusted Andulvar. Lucivar didn't trust Saetan.

"He just doesn't see it yet," Daemon told him one evening in his study. Daemon didn't understand how to spend time with him as a father. He tried though. Two or three nights a week he would bring one of his books and sit in Saetan's study and just read. Saetan had originally liked that his son had felt comfortable enough to spend the time around and then unhappy because Daemon wouldn't speak to him at all during those times. He figured out later that the reason was because Saetan was his teacher during the day and Daemon was trying to be a son, not a student, in the evening. Saetan would try to engage his son by teaching him something, but Daemon's silence meant that he actually wanted something more that he couldn't figure out how to get.

"Doesn't see what?" Saetan asked, pleased that Daemon was speaking to him.

"That you're his father too," Daemon said, looking over at him. "He gets that we're brothers and that you're my father, but he doesn't get that he's related to you," he said.

"How does he not?" Saetan asked, frustrated. He'd tried. He'd tried very hard. He was encouraging; he spoke to Lucivar whenever he could. He asked him questions, tried to engage with him. He'd called him his son so many times, even told Lucivar that he loved him. He didn't understand why Lucivar wasn't getting it even a little bit.

"He's jealous," Daemon said. "He's jealous that I have a father and he doesn't."

"That's ridiculous," Saetan said. "I try to spend just as much time with him as I do with you, probably more even," he said. At least he and Lucivar could talk about things that Saetan wasn't teaching him. They talked about Eryien history a lot because Saetan knew a lot and because he'd lived long enough to see a lot of it. They talked about Andulvar a lot too, especially because Lucivar still couldn't seem to reconcile his new teacher as being his legendary hero.

"We're more alike, we look alike, act alike," Daemon said. "He sees that, not what's alike between the two of you," he explained. "I don't think he's willing to accept it, because he knows it, but he refuses to accept it," the young man explained.

"Yes," Saetan said. "I bet he wishes that Andulvar was his father," he said, sounding bitter.

"He does," Daemon said. Saetan was surprised how much those two words could hurt. He'd been trying, damn it. He'd tried so hard. He'd been the one to get them. He'd been the one who got rid of the rings. He provided their home, their food. He loved them. And Lucivar didn't want him. Daemon might not want him either, but he didn't outright reject him like Lucivar was doing.

"Fine," Saetan said. It was a childish thing to say, but he didn't think he could deal with it anymore.

"He's trying, High Lord, but he can't reconcile it yet," Daemon said. "He never could accept what happened to him as a slave, and he still can't. He can't reconcile why he was treated like he was in the camps either. He's confused. He'll figure it out."

"And you?" Saetan asked. "You accepted what happened to you?" he asked. He hated it. Neither of them should have to have accepted such a thing.

"It was my life lot longer than it was his. He survived one way, and I another," Daemon said, his voice cold. Clearly Daemon hadn't forgiven him either.

"I'm sorry," Saetan said. He'd shown that he was sorry, but he hadn't really said it before.

"I know," Daemon said and spoke no more.

Saetan sighed heavily and looked back at his papers. The silence didn't stretch for long before Andulvar burst in. "What is it?" Saetan asked, his voice neutral to try and balance out Andulvar's adgitation.

"We can't hold them off any long, SaDiablo," Andulvar said, tossing a sealed letter down on the High Lord's desk. "I've tried, but you have to go talk to them yourself." He either didn't know that Daemon was there or didn't care.

"They're insisting?" Saetan asked blankly, opening the letter and looking over it.

"It seems the bitch is being incredibly vocal about you stealing her property," Andulvar said, not seeing Daemon stiffen in his chair by the fire. Saetan didn't notice either. It simply didn't cross is him that Daemon was still there and could hear them.

"Do you think she'd enjoy seeing some of Hell's more interesting landmarks?" He crooned.

"I think she'd deserve it and a lot more," Andulvar said. "But let's not step over any more boundaries the century," he added. Saetan had been the one to drill into his head that you couldn't deal with the affairs of other territories. It was a rule they'd leaned on when they'd gone and gotten thy boys but no one in their right might was going to stand in between Saetan and his children. So far Dorothea was making a surprisingly reasonable request for return of property… the problem was that Kaeleer didn't recognize slaves… on the other hand they also didn't want another war with Terrielle.

"No, no, not yet," Saetan crooned. He was nearing the killing edge. Andulvar shivered. If pushed the way he was right now Saetan would set a very special trap for Dorothea… and then wait for her to walk right into it.

"The council isn't telling you to send the boys anywhere, but they need to see you and hear what you have to say," Andulvar said. "Most of them are parents or grandparents. I doubt that they will force you to turn your boys back to Dorothea," he said.

"And if they try to, then there simply won't be a council anymore," Saetan said. He saw Andulvar shiver again and suppressed a sigh. Andulvar was his best friend… but sometimes it still really hurt that his friend was afraid of him. "Thank you Andulvar. Tell them I'll come tomorrow evening," he said.

"Just the First Tribune wants to see you," Andulvar said. "No full meeting, not yet," he said.

"Then tell her I will be there tomorrow evening," Saetan said, looking down at the letter he'd been handed to actually read it carefully this time. The second he heard the door shut he let out a long sigh. Because this was over he might be standing on the other side of honor far many more times.

"Are they going to send us back?" Daemon asked, causing Saetan to jump.

"I'm sorry, I should have sent you away. This isn't something you should be worrying about," Saetan said.

"Are they going to send us back?" Daemon asked again.

"No," Saetan said. "And there will be a slaughter if they try," he added. He looked at Daemon for a moment and found that the young man actually looked comforted.

"I remember things," Daemon said. "Sometimes… I just get very strong memories from… a long time ago," he said.

"Like what?" Saetan asked.

"Being read bedtime stories," Daemon said.

"Any one in particular?" Saetan asked, smiling, though it was more than a little sad. Those distant, loving memories should never have been so distant.

"No," Daemon said. "Just stories," he said. "You… you did love us, did you?" he asked.

Saetan felt his heart jump up in his throat. "I still love you, I never stopped loving you, either of you," he said.

"Then why did you let us go?" Daemon said. "Why couldn't you have come sooner?"

Saetan sighed heavily again. "Because there was a time with your brothers where I crossed the line of honor and did something that I regret with all of who I am. I made a mistake then, but I made a bigger mistake now," he said. "I let my honor get in the way of what was truly important."

"But you used to say that nothing was more important than honor… that it was what made the world work and if you sacrifice your honor once then there's nothing to stop you from doing it again," Daemon protested.

"Daemon… sometimes the world just isn't that simple. There's nothing more I can say."

"Okay," Daemon said after a long moment of silence. He rose silently, holding his book at his side. "Have a good evening, High Lord," he said and left. Saetan felt a real pang of pain. Damn. He hadn't meant to scare his son too.

* * *

Lady Adelaide was a priestess from Dharo. She was an older woman, aging with lines in her faces and white strands mixed in with her blonde hair, though still handsome in her own right. She wore Blood Opal, but it wasn't her looks or her strength that had won her the position is first tribune. She was strong, fiery and unwaveringly just. She had never liked Saetan. She disliked the demon dead who served on the council, especially Andulvar but she was fair to an unquestionable point. If Saetan could present his case to keep his sons as just, then there would be no force in the world that would make her move.

With that thought in mind, Saetan walked into the Lady Adelaide's study on the council's island. "You called for me?" he asked, speaking a lot more politely than he felt as he leaned on his cane.

"You're asking me to ignore a few laws that you broke, so I think that the least you can do is walk over and pay me a visit," the first tribune said with a smile. "Come, sit, it looks like your legs won't hold you up much longer," she said, indicating a chair in front of her desk. But Saetan didn't sit.

"You're not going to take my sons away," he said. "Especially not if you're going to try and give them back to their captors," he added.

"No, I must admit that I'm not happy about handing breathing people into their hands… but you did steal something some them," the woman said, leaning forward.

"They stole something from me first," Saetan said.

"Paternity was denied," Lady Adelaide said. "They may be your blood, but you have no rights to them," she said.

"Paternity was denied," Saetan said. "And then the boys were stolen from their mothers," he said. "Kidnapped and enslaved," he said.

Adelaide smirked, leaning back a bit. "Oh, you've got a sweet point there, High Lord," she said.

"Enough that you wouldn't send them back?" he asked.

"Enough that I'd consider arrest Dorothea if I thought it would stick," she said. "The issue isn't Dorothea or her bitches," Adelaide said. "The issue is what to do with the boys," she told him. "High Lord, I think you should sit down," she told him carefully. This time he did sit down.

"I'm not letting my sons be taken from me again." Saetan said.

"They aren't your sons-"

"They are my sons!"

"Not legally. They can seek you out when they're of age, but until then they belong to their mothers," she said.

"Not exactly," Saetan said. "Daemon's mother never denied paternity," he said.

Lady Adelaide's eyebrow knit together and her brow creased. "Paternity was denied," she said.

"Paternity was denied," Saetan said. "By Dorothea SaDiablo, not by Daemon's mother. Dorothea stood up and said that my son was not mine, said that she had sent another man in to make sure that Tersa was pregnant. Tersa never spoke," he said.

The temperature in the room dropped. "Bitch," Lady Adelaide said and Saetan was surprised to see that she was the one who'd gone cold, not him. "Why did you walk away, High Lord? If the mother didn't deny you your rights to your son, why did you walk away?"

Saetan closed his eyes and thought back on that day. At the moment the words had been spoken so many things flashed before his eyes: Daemon's face, Tersa's, Lucivar's, Luthvian's, the carved up body of a baby, a quiet place with a garden of flowers made of baby's hands, and a man's face a man that Saetan didn't know and yet knew very well… the face of a man who had lost everything and destroyed everything he loved in an instant when he realized that his daughter had been denied to him… lost it like Saetan had when he received the chest with his son's body… and no head.

"I was afraid of what I would do," he said. "I was afraid that I'd hurt my son and by the time I could think about what really happened both of my sons were gone," he said. "I made a choice, because I wasn't sure that I wouldn't make a mistake, that I wouldn't slip and that one of the bodies left after I slipped wouldn't be very, very small."

There was a silence and it stretched for a long, long time. Saetan didn't look at the priestess; his eyes had come to rest on the head on of cane. He found himself lost in a deep contemplation of that time. Given who he was, what he was, what he'd done in the past and what he knew could happen… yes, he would had done the same thing all over again. But the next time he would have gotten Daemon as soon as his mind cleared.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but he felt a gentle touch on his hand and looked up, seeing that Lady Adelaide had moved around to the front of her desk. She sat in the chair next to him and had leaned over. She'd reached out and taken her hand. "When is the last time you've spoken to a priestess… not as a woman, but as Priestess? As the women who tend the altars and pose as healers of the spirit of the blood?" she asked.

"It has been many, many years," he said.

"More than counting," she said.

"More than counting," he responded. "Are you offering to have me speak to you now?" he asked.

"No, it wouldn't be appropriate, considering the power I have in your life at the moment," Lady Adelaide said. "But I know some women I can suggest. I think you should speak with some of them. You are very old and powerful and bare a lot of weight on your shoulders. No man can walk around like that," she said.

Saetan found himself smiling. "You are a very effective Priestess," he said.

"I am what Dorothea SaDiablo could only have dreamed of being. She is a weed in our garden, something that poses as one of us, may even be in the same class as us, but she in a parasite. I would like nothing more than to destroy her, as she has destroyed everything that she's ever touched," she said, speaking with more venom that Saetan had ever heard this woman speak with in her life. Lady Adelaide didn't like him, wasn't comfortable with who he was, what he did, and his being on the line between living a demon dead, but she would never hate him. She would hate Dorothea until the day she died, though.

"Yes, I believe you understand Dorothea just as well as I do," Saetan said, squeezing the woman's hand.

"High Lord, Saetan Daemon SaDiablo is by all rights your son and believe me I will have words with Dorothea for the laws _she_ broke in order to keep him from you," she spoke with strength. This was her ruling. "You have full Parental rights to your son, though you will have to share him if his mother shows up," she said.

"If I can ever find her. I have been looking for her for many hundreds of years," he said.

"As for Lucivar Yaslana," Lady Adelaide continued, using the name Lucivar chose for himself, rather than SaDiablo, as Saetan had written in the records books in the Keep. "His mother did deny paternity and there's nothing I can do to change that. Words said in haste cannot be undone, even if the mother regrets it later," Lady Adelaide said. "I understand that you are in contact with this boy's mother," she added.

"Yes, she lives in a home that I own," he said.

"You will speak to her. If she wants to leave the boy with you, then I will have no qualms with this. But if she wants to keep him away from you then you must let her take him," she said.

"What, allow her to live in my house with my son and never see him?" Saetan hissed.

"He's not your son," Lady Adelaide said.

"He is my son!" Saetan snapped. "What would you know of children or the pain of losing one?" he asked, knowing full well that the woman in question had never been interested in men or children.

"Nothing," Lady Adelaide said. "But I know the law. Lady Luthvian denied paternity to you, as was her legal right and she had her son stolen from her," she added.

"She gave him away to Prythian to hide him from me," he said.

"And Prythian stole the boy from her," the priestess responded. "And again, I will be dealing with her as well, especially since both Prythian and Dorothea have brought this case to my attention and my jurisdiction. That aside, Lady Luthvian has not proven to be an unfit mother," she said. "If she were to send him back to Prythian then I would neither stop you from killing her, nor stop you from going to find Lucivar or adopting him," Lady Adelaide said. "But if she wants him and not you, then this is her choice," she said.

Saetan was livid. Luthvian still could crush his heart. "What makes you think that I will allow this?" he asked.

"Because you are an honorable man," Lady Adelaide said.

"Am I?" Saetan asked. He was starting to doubt that himself.

"Your son will in Kaeleer with his mother, close by and not that long from reaching the age of majority at which point you may make contact with him again," she said.

"Damn you!" Saetan hissed. "Lucivar's just starting to heal, just starting to feel comfortable. He has teachers who are Eryien, who know what it means to be Eryien. Luthian will do everything to crush that part of him, who he is," Saetan said. "But of course, better to be in something that destroys him rather than with me," he spat, hurting and angry.

"I cannot change the law," Lady Adelaide said. "I would not deny him to you if paternity had not already been legally denied," she said. "If you would like to adopt him then you may try. You would need the mother's consent, but I will allow you to bring it to the tribunal… if Lucivar Yaslana is truly being harmed by her and you have evidence of it then there if something I can do. Until then," the woman stood, letting go of Saetan's hand. "Your boys are safe, close by, and nearing majority. Might I suggest a little patience?" she questioned.

"Am I dismissed?" Saetan asked through ground teeth, standing as well.

"Yes," Lady Adelaide said. "You are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This took so much longer to finish than I wanted it to! What? Lady Adelaide is a lesbian? Yeah, it's kind of a function of her character. Saetan's charm doesn't impress her and she feels that the demon dead belong in hell, but among the living. She also finds him both too hard handed and too weak willed. Secretly I don't think that she disapproves of what he did to rescue his sons but she will not allow him to push the council around nor break the law in Kaeleer. She is fair even if it hurts her and she's cares deeply for her duties as the first tribune and as a priestess. It is her duty to serve the people as best she can.
> 
> This council is several hundred years before Jorval is even born and therefore a much stronger base of power and guidance. I knew that Lady Adelaide was going to be a hard ass but a fair one form the beginning, but I wasn't exactly sure how this would turn out until it did. I really like the problems she solved and the ones she caused and I like that she'd not at all wrong.
> 
> As for her sexuality, I honestly knew a few days ago which I started working on this, like I knew her age and that she would be from Dharo and a priestess. Honestly, I wasn't planning to bring it up, but Saetan did it all on his own! I didn't plan on bringing it up because it's not really important to Saetan/Daemon/Lucivar's story.
> 
> Finally, notes on Priestesses: females are the healers in this world. Healers tend to the body, and Black Widows to the mind. Queens heal the land, the heart of the people. The Priestess's only described functions involve acts: tending altars, performing offerings, guarding the gates and opening the gates, witnessing handfasting and marriages. But this isn't very much. The Altars are the spiritual center of the blood, the way that they give offerings and offerings to the darkness. All members of blood society are important.
> 
> Priestesses have equal status to Healers. Healers may be functionally one of the most useful members of the blood. Queens, Warlord Princes and Black Widows moves from simply living as blood almost to a whole other plane of existence. They are special, revered and therefore isolated. But Priestesses are on the same level as healers: special but not separate. They must perform a function in the society as well. In my mind this means that they rank on the level of preachers or priests do in our world.
> 
> Most people give reverence to doctors because they can save lives, and they give a certain amount of reverence to priests and preachers (short of doing something illegal or truly wrong, that is) simply because of what they're willing to dedicate their lives to, whether or not the person addressing the priest believes in a god or not. There's something decidedly wrong about the idea of beating a priest, a monk, a preacher, a rabbi, (etc) as opposed to beating a normal person. They're just a little different, but also very average.
> 
> With this in mind: I feel like Priestesses serve as healers of the spirit of the blood. This is why Dorothea believes that males will bow to her. She's also a Black Widow, but it's the Priestess part of her that she believes males will be drawn to. The priestesses guide the blood through their rituals, but I also feel like they're more day-to-day than that. I feel like Priestesses would also feel the same role as councilors. I wouldn't call it confessional, but many faiths train their religious leaders not just in their sacred texts but also in counseling those in need. As such this makes sense to me why Priestess would be a separate caste that people can be born into.
> 
> A Queen has the ability to heal the land, to be the heart of the people. A Black Widow is more naturally drawn to the complicated and dangerous world of tangled webs. A Healer is more naturally drawn to healing people. The only female castes not specifically described as people being able to train in it who were not natural are the Priestess and the Queen. The Queen has a special connection with the earth and people that cannot be taught. I believe that the priestess has something special too. There are people simply more suited for dealing with faith than others, but I think it's more than that. I think that Priestesses are able to more easily read the hearts of people than a Black Widow or Healer or maybe even a Queen. They are special and they are common and I think that the priestess class often gets down played in this world because of Dorothea and Heketah. There are way more priestesses than just those two (thankfully).
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading this chapter, and I'm sorry for all the insane notes. They are simply explanations and probably not necessary to this or any of my other stories. :D


	4. Chapter 4

Saetan didn't want to go home at first. All he could think of was that he'd lost Lucivar. Luthvian wasn't a specifically cruel woman. She wouldn't set out to destroy Lucivar, she would merely viciously prune away his self esteem and his wants and dreams until nothing was left and she would do this with the best of intentions. That was probably what made it all so bad. She'd been a very troubled young woman when he'd seen her through her virgin night, but she'd also been Tersa's friend. Luthvian had helped Tersa after she'd been broken and she was an incredibly skilled black widow. She wasn't one of the bad ones, but Saetan could never like her.

He stood on the edge of her cottage, completely shielded, watching the young girls of Riada wander away to head home for the evening after their craft lessons. This was a home that he'd built for Luthvian, gave to her and allowed her to live in simply because she had birthed his son, even though she had also given away that son. He remembered the warm spring day it had been built and how just seeing the place sat like a cold stone in his stomach. He'd brought her through to Kaeleer and protected her, even though she hadn't protected Lucivar. He wondered why he hadn't killed her before and then he pushed that thought away. He was never going to be that person who simply killed someone who annoyed him.

He walked silently up to the cottage and inside, hearing a plate shatter in the kitchen. That was how he knew where Luthvian was and he quietly dropped the sight and aural shields as he walked into the room. "Luthvian," he said coldly.

"High Lord," Luthvian said, one hand over her breast as if to soothe the pounding of her heart, though to her credit her voice neither wavered nor showed the fear that she felt. She knew how to handle a male… far too well. "How may I be of service?" she asked, straightening herself out and moving away from the counter top she'd been leaning against when she first found out he'd arrived.

"Lucivar's living in Kaeleer," Saetan said. He wondered if he really felt surprised at her reaction. She looked happy. He was sure that she was, though that didn't mean she wouldn't, with terribly well meaning intentions, completely destroy Lucivar.

"Are you going to let me see him?" Luthvian asked.

"It's more a question of if you will let me see him," Saetan said, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"What?" the Eryien woman asked, not understanding.

"The council has ruled that Lucivar is to be in your care only. I've been told that I can adopt him if you will allow me to," Saetan said.

"Then why have you not brought him to me?" Luthvian asked. Saetan looked up at her with cold golden eyes and the stiff attitude she'd been about to take melted a bit out of fear. He was worried seeing how quickly she went from happiness to demanding.

"He's with his brother," Saetan said. "Winsol is coming up in three weeks. Lucivar is just starting to adjust to being here, it will be better to have you come for the holidays, you can get him after the holidays are over," he said.

"You don't have a say in his life," Luthvian said.

"No, but you live in a house that I own, have a job that I originally provided and I don't forget why Lucivar was even in Terrielle," he said coldly. "He's still not accepted his life here, to rip him away from what he's building so suddenly would be terrible for him," Saetan said, letting his own anger slip away. Lucivar didn't need to see him fighting with Luthvian.

"You won't try and stop me from taking him after the holidays?" Luthvian said.

"No," Saetan said. "I won't."

* * *

"Damn it SaDiablo, why is he even going back with her?" Andulvar nearly shouted, pacing in front of Saetan's fireplace in Hell. Saetan had requested the demon prince to come to hell. The High Lord had already made the mistake of having Daemon in the room for one of the conversations, he wasn't taking any chances this time.

"Because the council has decided," Saetan said.

"Screw the council," Andulvar said. Saetan wished he react that way. Instead he sighed heavily, letting his shoulders slump.

"Lady Adelaide is a very reasonable woman," Saetan said dully.

"She gave Lucivar over to that bitch!" Andulvar snapped. Andulvar didn't like Luthvian, but he didn't normally speak so harshly of her, except this time he was just very angry at the entire situation.

"She has stated that Daemon and Lucivar are to remain here, where they will be much better off, and she didn't take Daemon from us," he said.

"She took Lucivar from you," Andulvar pointed out.

"Legally she couldn't have done anything else," Saetan said. "Lady Adelaide will protect the boys with her own life, I could see that in her eyes."

"Yeah, from Dorothea, but Luthvian is going to destroy Lucivar. She'll cut out everything Eryien in him, even clip his wings if she can," Andulvar pointed out. "She still has a hundred years to do it too before Lucivar's of age."

"I know, I know," Saetan said, rubbing his forehead. "Damn it Adulvar, he was so close to being able to have a real life."

"And there's nothing you can do?" Andulvar asked.

"I can try to adopt him," Saetan said. "If Luthvian will allow it."

"Big if," Andulvar snorted. "Anything else."

"I can take the matter up to the council if I feel that Lucivar is being abused," Saetan said.

"Abused and not severely damaged?" Andulvar asked, drawing his wings closer. Eryiens only lived in Kaeleer off and on since he had ruled Askavi. The only other people in Kaeleer who had wings were the Jhinka, and the Jhinka were hated and mistrusted by all blood. No one on that council was going to understand what it mean to be Eryien and though Andulvar could try to support such a petition, but he would be seen as too biased because of his friendship with Saetan and because he'd trained Lucivar before. Forget the fact that he was the only Eryien on the whole damn council and could best explain what it meant to be locked off from their culture.

"Andulvar, please," Saetan said tiredly.

"So what, they can't do anything until he'd hurt more than he's already been hurt? I mean they at least taught him how to be Eryien in the camps and the people around him understood what it meant to be an Eryien while he was a slave. Luthvian doesn't approve of what he is, and she's going to break him down because she's his mother and is supposed to love him!"

"Andulvar, shut up," Saetan said with a cold softness that made Andulvar stop talking. A heavy silence passed between them and Andulvar even stopped pacing, barely daring to breathe. Sometimes he got caught up in Saetan as his friend and forgot Saetan the Executioner… though he never truly forgot, not since Zuulaman. Sometimes it took all his will to stay in the room when Saetan was at his worst. What he didn't know was that Saetan often would hold off the worst until he had left. Saetan didn't want to see his friend flea from him, not again.

"SaDiablo?" Andulvar ventured after the silence stretched far too long.

"I failed him again Andulvar, I know it," Saetan said. "And so I wonder… if maybe I shouldn't get rid of the problem," he said.

"Luthvian, or the council?" Andulvar asked because he knew he had too, though he was almost afraid to.

"I'm not sure yet," Saetan said. "I wonder now… since I've failed them so many times… what lengths won't I go to in order to keep them safe," he said softly. Andulvar couldn't suppress his shiver. There was a line that Saetan would never cross before, but now he couldn't be sure that his oldest friend wouldn't cross every line in order to protect his sons… but that was why he saw hesitation in the High Lord's eyes… he wasn't sure either and his scared him.

"Hold off that decision for now," Andulvar said, walking over to the desk. Most times Saetan had to walk him back from the edge… but sometimes, very important times, it was Andulvar's duty to walk Saetan back from that edge. "You still have the holidays. Let's see how Lucivar and Luthvian react to each other. If you really think that Lady Adelaide is as good as you seem to, then maybe we can work this out."

"I'm not going to let him get hurt again," Saetan said quickly.

"I know you won't, old son, I know you won't," Andulvar replied.

* * *

Lucivar didn't know why he was being called to Saetan's office. Saetan would spend a little time with him each day, but they had a very specific room they met in and they would talk about Eryien history for a while and eat little sandwiches that Lucivar liked. He felt a little hopeful. The last time one of them had been called to the High Lord's study was right before they started craft lessons. Daemon loved learning Black Widow craft. He would show off sometimes and Lucivar would just roll his eyes.

He could see some of the practicality of black widow craft, but more that he thought it would be good to incorporate Black Widow craft into a battle plan, and that it would be good to learn how to see beyond it, which was what Lucivar had been trying to work up to asking Saetan. It wasn't that he didn't think the old man wouldn't teach him, he'd probably be very happy to. Lucivar's hesitation was that he wasn't sure how much more he wanted to owe the man. Sometimes he still felt like all of this couldn't be real, though he wanted it to be so much.

More than that he wanted, really wanted Saetan to be his father. He could understand Andulvar better, and he got along with Prothvar more easily… but he felt drawn to the Hayllian man… like he remembered him from a time he couldn't remember. There was a tone to his voice, a cadence that Lucivar found to be familiar and comforting. Things said in Saetan's voice Lucivar heard more easily and remembered more easily. Sometimes he would dream about the man, about a past Lucivar couldn't remember, but he felt comforted and safe… he'd never felt safe before in his life.

He watched what Daemon and Saetan had and Lucivar wished he could have that. He wished that he looked like the man, or something. A part of him really wanted this call to be Saetan telling him that he was a black widow, though Lucivar didn't care about the craft at all. He just wanted something him to the man, something that no one else could dispute, not even himself. That was why he walked alone to the meeting with Saetan and why, for once, he didn't shield.

"You called for me?" Lucivar asked when he came in, going instantly to sit in the chair that Andulvar seemed to gravitate to. It was near the fire, and not far from where Saetan sat. If Lucivar had been to Saetan's office more he might have noted that it was odd for him to not be seated behind his desk, nor was he in his normal chair. He sat by the fire, next to the chair Andulvar preferred… next to the chair that Lucivar who was trying to imitate Andulvar would picke.

"Yes, I did," Saetan said carefully. His voice set Lucivar on edge instantly.

"What is it?" Lucivar said, on the offensive.

"You can't stay here anymore," Saetan said.

"You're sending me back?" Lucivar accused, projecting anger, though he felt his stomach drop out from fear.

"No, never," Saetan said.

"Then where are you sending me?" Lucivar demanded.

"No where," Saetan said. "Someone is coming to take you away, and no, not any of those bitches from Terrielle," he said with such venom that it surprised the young Eryien into staying quiet. "Lucivar… I want you to know that no matter what anyone says you are my son. You're not a bastard, you're not less than anyone. You are my son, I claimed you in the keep's registry and everything after you were born," Saetan said. Lucivar nodded, having gone to see the registry for himself. Daemon had too, but he hadn't needed to see it like his younger brother had needed to.

"Why are you telling me this?" Lucivar asked.

Saetan sighed heavily. "When you and your brother were born… I was a flattered fool, allowing myself to be talked into taking that potion so that I could conceive a child… to help bring a darker bloodline back to the Hayllians," he explained.

"A child, just one," Lucivar observed and Saetan nodded. "I was a mistake," he concluded.

"An accident, never a mistake. For whatever happened to you and your brother I never regretted your existences," Saetan said. "The woman I chose, she was a black widow, broken before she could claim a power that I assure you would have stymied the rise of Dorothea. A brilliant young woman. Durring her pregnancy she asked me to see her friend through her virgin night," Saetan said.

"And you did," Lucivar said.

"And I did, though I didn't know that I was still able to produce children, and the witch swore to me that she had taken the brew… but she was in a place where she couldn't risk not having her night. She too was a powerful black widow and she was afraid if she put her night off any longer that she would be broken," Saetan explained.

"Wait… I don't understand, why was an Eryien woman in Hayll?" Lucivar ask, figuring out that part of the story didn't make sense.

"She didn't look like an Eryien."

"How could she not look like an Eryien?"

Saetan merely gave him a look and one word: "Lucivar."

Lucivar looked at the man and suddenly it hit him. "Luthvian, of course, who else could it be?" he asked.

"Yes, Luthvian," Saetan said.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Lucivar asked.

"I raised both of you boys since you were babies," Saetan said, starting into his story again. Lucivar felt annoyed, but he felt that the other man was building up to the truth. "And I was told that I would be granted paternity by both women and then I planned to take you both back here, to Kaeleer," he explain.

"Then why didn't that happen?" Lucivar asked.

"The day of Daemon's birthright ceremony Dorothea denied paternity," Saetan said.

"Is Dorothea really related to Daemon?" Lucivar asked, looking confused as to how she could deny paternity.

"No, Daemon's mother is a gifted witch named Tersa, have you heard of her?" Saetan asked.

Lucivar nodded. "Daemon's mentioned her once or twice… does he know?" he asked.

"No," Saetan said. "I was hoping to find her and bring her here, but I haven't been able to… maybe it's time I have a discussion with Daemon as well," he admitted.

"I still don't understand," Lucivar said. "What gave Dorothea the ability to deny paternity? Did this Tersa agree?"

"Tersa wasn't even there," Saetan said. "Dorothea said that she had sent another man in after I'd left to be sure that Tersa was pregnant. It was a terrible lie… but I walked away and don't ask me why. That's a story for another day far in the future," he added quickly.

"What about me?" Lucivar asked. Saetan didn't smile, but almost. Lucivar reminded him of a boy sometimes. He still was a boy, but sometimes he had more vulnerable moments than Daemon. Daemon had learned too much how to hide himself.

"Prythian had been feeding your mothers lies about Guardians for a long time," Saetan said. "She truly believed that I would use you for fodder if you were left with me," he said.

"But you wouldn't!" Lucivar snapped. Saetan hadn't realized how much good that small acceptance would make him feel. It healed some of the pain that the High Lord had been feeling every time Lucivar turned away from him.

"No, I wouldn't, and your mother will admit now that she was wrong. Prythian told her that she could protect you, so your mother denied paternity and left you with Prythian, believing that she could come and get you once I had gone. But of course, when she returned to claim you Prythian wouldn't let you go," Saetan concluded, falling into silence.

"I don't understand," Lucivar said. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"That's the hard part," Saetan said with a heavy sigh. "Prythian and Dorothea have been trying to get you and Daemon back by speaking to the Dark Council, the body here in Kaeleer that helps to regulate the territories. I actually helped create it. In any case, the council will refuse any motion those bitches make to get the two of you back. I wouldn't let you go back even if the council agreed, but Lady Adelaide who leads the tribunal is a very just woman… but that has caused another problem."

"Which would be?" Lucivar asked, getting both annoyed and fearful of waiting.

"Lady Adelaide granted me full rights to Daemon because of the paternity was denied but you…" Saetan trailed off, his mouth open by no words coming out.

"But I was denied properly," Lucivar said, feeling his stomach dropping out. "So you're getting rid of me."

"No, Lucivar, it's not like that. I'm already working to try and keep you… but legally the council will not recognize what you and I and anyone with half a brain can see: that you are my son. Your mother will be visiting during Winsol… but once the holidays are over you have to leave with her."

"So you are getting rid of me," Lucivar spat. He hurt damn it! He'd been hoping that maybe he could find a way to link himself to this man and instead he was being tossed aside.

"No, I am not!" Saetan snapped, making Lucivar meet his eyes. "You are not going to be taken from me for forever. You are my son and I'm not going to let anyone take you from me again. Your mother lives in a house I own and I and Daemon with come to visit," he said.

"What about Prothvar, or Mephis, or Andulvar?" Lucivar asked. "I see," he said when Saetan didn't answer. Luthvian didn't like Eryiens… he remembered that from the times that he had been in her home. He remembered how the way she looked at him would subtly shift, as removing his wings as if she could remove the Eryien from him. That look scared him to his core… and he was going to live with her. "Thank you for telling me, High Lord," he said, standing.

"Lucivar," Saetan said, standing as well.

"I'll see you at dinner," Lucivar said and walked out. He needed to be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What? I cause problems?
> 
> This was going to be a Winsol chapter, but it became this instead. This can easily be a lot longer than I first thought. I hope the Lucivar probably will be wrapped up in a few chapters (I hope), because besides the adjustment problems I need to deal with the problems with what happens to Jaenelle, Surreal and Marian now that everything's screwed up. Some things will be better and some worse, that's all that I can say. This was going to be shorted, but I think it will be longer just so I can cover everything… I hope it'll be enough.
> 
> Also, for the purposes of this story the age of majority is 1000 for longer lived races.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucivar barely spoke to any of them after that. Daemon came in after a week of Lucivar's near muteness and shouted at Saetan until the young man couldn't even speak anymore. Saetan had listened to all of it and mere nodded along, taking in all the insults and everything. For all of Daemon's noise, his words said very little. Every time Daemon was about to let something out, reveal a little of the pain that he and Lucivar had suffered, Daemon would suddenly switch back to name calling. It was the most childish thing Saetan had seen Daemon do up until then, and as much as it hurt, Saetan took it as the sign of healing that it was. The Daemon from six months previous would have said nothing, but plotted revenge.

Saetan stood when Daemon had finally yelled himself hoarse. "Are you done?" he asked, moving around his desk to sit in front of it instead. Daemon merely glared at him and nodded. "Well, now that you've had your say, allow me to have mine," Saetan said. "For one, sit down," he said, pouring Daemon a glass of water from a pitcher that Saetan kept filled at all times now. Daemon glared but did as he was told, accepting the glass and sipping from it.

"I don't want Lucivar to go," Saetan said. "But truthfully I have not yet decided what to do," he explained to Daemon, who's eyes grew sharp. "What you must understand is that I am not going to allow Lucivar to be harmed. It would be better, legally, and probably emotionally if I can work something out with Luthvian. We will work it out one way or another," he added. You never insult or undermine the authority of the other parent in front of the child, Saetan knew that. "That being said, there is a bit of help I could use from you," he said.

"What?" Daemon rasped. Saetan knew that in that moment he could ask Daemon for absolutely anything, and Daemon would do it, if only to protect his younger brother. Loyalty and love… the thought made Saetan smile just the smallest amount.

"I would appreciate it if you went as much time with your brother as you can after he moves in with his mother. It will be easier for him to adjust, I think, if he has you nearby," Saetan said.

"What about the others?" Daemon asked. This was the problem. Lucivar needed to practice, he needed time with Andulvar and he needed lessons.

Saetan sighed heavily. "I need to work things out with Luthvian, but I think I might consider having you and Lucivar signed up for school in Dhemlan."

"Really?" Daemon asked, his voice cracking a bit from the abuse he'd just given it. He looked intrigued anyway. Saetan wondered if maybe he hadn't been projecting his own feelings onto Daemon and Lucivar when he thought that neither of them would want to go outside of the family residence yet. Just one more mistake.

"Of course, the work won't be as easy for Lucivar, but it might do him some good to have some normal classes," Saetan said. There was no delicate way to say that he'd do better spending time with the completely living and away from Luthvian. "After Winsol. There's little use in starting classes now, though I'll try to prepare you both for the winter semester," Saetan added. He knew they'd probably be held back to some extent. Daemon had been focused very heavily on craft lessons, while Lucivar had worked on craft and fighting, yet Daemon was well on his way to read about every book in the SaDiablo library. Lucivar didn't read unless he absolutely had to. Mostly, Saetan just wanted his boys to interact with other boys and girls their own age.

"I'll help him," Daemon rasped. There was a fierce protectiveness in Daemon's eyes.

"I know you will," Saetan said. "You're a wonderful brother." It shocked Saetan to see the look on Daemon's face from that complement. Daemon hadn't expected it, but in clearly pleased him, and embarrassed him a bit. Saetan smiled a bit, understanding. "It will be okay, Daemon, I swear on all that I am."

"Okay," Daemon said softly. He sipped his water and turned his eyes to the fire.

* * *

Winsol came upon them far too fast. Saetan did everything he could to try and teach Lucivar as much as possible. He'd even started to neglect Daemon's lessons, not that Daemon complained. They'd all subtly shifted to try and give Lucivar every tool to be able to deal with Luthvian. Lucivar had finally started to speak again, but to everyone but Saetan. Lucivar threw himself even harder to his lesson's with Andulvar. No matter what Saetan said, Lucivar didn't believe that he was going to see Andulvar again, not while staying in Luthvian's house. And no matter what Saetan said, he also didn't think that Lucivar would see Andulvar.

It all hinged on Winsol. Saetan took the first day of Winsol for all of them, for family. It was just the men, and they didn't go out and do anything. They sat around and told stories. Both Lucivar and Daemon were fascinated to hear stories they knew merely as legends, but from the lips of men who'd actually lived those legends. Andulvar had Lucivar positively enthralled by telling about the battle that lost him his life. Daemon was won by Saetan's stories about Witch, not that Lucivar wasn't also fascinated.

"What was she like?" Daemon asked, his voice showing more want than he probably expected to show.

"Beautiful," Saetan said. "Powerful, she was my friend, for a time," he said.

"For a time?" Daemon asked.

Saetan wondered if he shouldn't try to let Daemon keep his dreams untainted. The boy longed for Witch, both of them did. In their bones they wanted a woman who would look at them and wouldn't see anything but men, but friends, both lovers, but themselves. They wanted that as badly as Saetan had wanted it, and maybe they wanted it more. As long as he'd lived with no such thing as a person who could love him completely for who he was with no fear. Yet the boys had lived shorter lives where people had used them for what they were, for their bodies and for who they were related to (though they didn't know that last part at the time). They had looked for freedom in legends, and for both of them the existence of Saetan and Andulvar was proof that Witch existed.

"Cassandra was a powerful woman, but she… didn't trust me, not after I made my offering," he said.

"Because you also wore black?" Daemon asked.

"Because I was more powerful than her," Saetan said. The look in both Daemon and Lucivar's eyes cut him. "But," he said quickly, before he could kill that hope that they'd held for a life time. "She was a black widow unparalleled, and she made one last prediction before she died."

"What?" Lucivar asked, the first word he'd spoken to Saetan since the disastrous meeting a few weeks ago.

"There would be another Witch, one who would follow, who would be more powerful, more glorious than any before," Saetan said. He glanced at both his boys. In their eyes was held so much want, desperate want.

"That's not all she said," Daemon said. Saetan had to wonder if Daemon just understood him that well, or if he'd just become impossibly easy to read.

"She said to me specifically," Saetan said, trying to give a bit of an explanation. "That she would be my daughter, not the daughter of my loins, but the daughter of my soul." His eyes went to both his sons again. Lucivar seemed to accept that. There was a hope in his eyes for that: a sister. Daemon looked displeased, and Saetan wondered for a moment what about that made Daemon upset.

"When will she come?" Lucivar asked.

"I don't know," Saetan said. "I have no idea… I was only told that it would be a very long time… but it have been a very, very long time," he admitted. He could suddenly feel the ache of his age, the tiredness in his bones, the weight of his age. So old, so very old, and yet the promise had still not been fulfilled… it didn't matter. He had another promise to fulfill, a promise to the two young men who sat in front of him now.

"She'll come," Daemon said. The belief in his voice was unshaken.

"She'll come," Lucivar said, following Daemon's words. He would follow Daemon anywhere.

"She will come," Saetan said. He'd almost stopped believing so many times, yet hearing their still youthful voices repeat the words that had rung through his heads for about 45,000 years renewed that belief.

* * *

The next day, Luthvian showed up. She smiled so brightly when she saw Lucivar and threw her arms around him and started to cry. "You're safe, you're safe," she wept for a moment. Lucivar melted into her hold. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered, squeezing him tighter. For a moment Lucivar felt loved. He'd seen her a number of times, and he realized now that her harsh words came from a place of not knowing how to love him. It had all the awkwardness that Saetan had with him when they used to have their meeting time together (Lucivar had stopped showing up.)

Luthvian pulled him back for a moment, looking him over like she really missed him. Lucivar smiled and felt the tiniest flutter of hope. The hope disappeared when he saw the way her eyes shifted, as if she was blocking out his wings from her sight. He sighed heavily. "Hello… Mother," he said hesitantly.

"Oh, Lucivar," she said softly, stroking his cheek. He pulled away from her. Really? He was over 900 years old at this point. Was she really going to keep treating him like a child? She giggled at his motion and he scowled. "I'm so glad you're safe," she said softly. She glanced over at Saetan, and Lucivar could feel her mistrust. Lucivar stiffened.

"Luthvian," Saetan said from where he was standing. He wouldn't let Lucivar meet her alone, something Lucivar was glad for. Daemon had stayed as well, something else Lucivar was glad for as well.

"Saetan," she said, her voice clipped. Her eyes moved over to Daemon and she smiled. "Daemon, I'm so glad you're home as well," she said. Lucivar felt something of a stab in his heart. Here too… Luthvian wished Daemon was her son. Was there no one who wanted him?

"Lady Luthvian," Daemon said, his voice cold, like how he'd speak to any court woman. Lucivar wasn't sure if he should feel insulted that Daemon would speak to his mother like that, or grateful that Daemon wouldn't accept Luthvian like she seemed to wish he would.

"Luthvian, why don't you go see your room for the week?" Saetan suggested, though Lucivar imagined it was more of an order. Neither Luthvian nor Saetan seemed to like each other very much.

"Fine," Luthvian said, allowing the servants to lead her away.

"Lucivar," Saetan said, sounding hesitant.

"I'll be outside," Lucivar said, heading out. He needed to fly, while he still could away.

* * *

Winsol was a tense affair, but not from lack of trying to be nice on everyone's part. Saetan spoke to Lucivar often, though Lucivar still didn't speak to him very often. He didn't sometimes, torn between wanting to still spend time with the man while he could, and wanting to hurt the man for leaving him behind again. Andulvar and Prothvar seemed to be town between wanting to spend time with Lucivar and now wanting to make Luthvian feel uncomfortable. No matter what Saetan said, everyone knew that Lucivar would not be seeing Mephis or Prothvar or Andulvar once he went to Luthvian's home.

The only person who seemed unaffected was Daemon. He acted the same around everyone, though he did move Lucivar away from arguments that seemed to be about to happen. "I'm not made of porcelain, Prick!" Lucivar finally snapped.

"I'm not doing it for you," Daemon said simply, gliding out to the lake that was now frozen, their ice skates slung over his shoulder.

"Did he ask you to do it?" Lucivar asked. They knew full well which 'He' Lucivar was referring to.

"No, he didn't," Daemon said.

"Then why?" Lucivar asked, taking his skates from his brother. They both sat down on the snowy banks to pull them on.

"It's easier for him when he doesn't have to be nice to her."

"He doesn't have to be," Lucivar pointed out.

"He does when we're around," Daemon said. "Mephis said that he was the same way with their mother, and she was apparently quiet awful. He didn't speak ill of her, and he was always very kind to her when the Mephis and Peyton were around to see."

"Why would he do that?' Lucivar asked, jumping onto the lake and starting to skate away. Daemon followed after in more leisurely strokes.

"Because he doesn't want you to feel like this is going to be awful," Daemon said. "He wants you to be able to respect her."

"It is going to be awful," Lucivar grumbled. He fell into step besides Daemon and they started to do rings around the pond. "Daemon, I don't know how we're going to live together, I just don't. We'll destroy each other. She can only accept the parts of me that aren't Eryien."

"I know," Daemon said. "I don't believe she's going to give Saetan any rights to you."

"I don't believe so either. What choice do I have but to go?" Lucivar asked.

"None," Daemon said. "But that doesn't mean that you have to stay there forever," he added.

"What do you mean?" Lucivar asked.

"Just focus on surviving, and try not to forget anything she does… I'm working on it," Daemon said. He looked at Lucivar, golden eyes meeting golden eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"Completely," Lucivar said. He followed up those words with a grin, which only got wider when Daemon actually smiled back. "It's not… so bad here," he said quietly. "I don't want to leave."

"If you told him that, then he'd make sure you didn't have to leave."

"I don't want him to kill my mother," Lucivar said.

"Which is why I need you to trust me," Daemon said.

"I do trust you," Lucivar said.

* * *

Saetan was sure, after just a week of Luthvian being around that Lucivar can't, truly cannot go with her. Winsol has ended, and Lucivar is supposed to go with her, which is why Saetan hasn't slept. He tried over and over again to work with Luthvian, to try and make her see eye to eye, to try and get Lucivar time for lessons with Andulvar, to get her to sign papers to give him paternal rights. He tried to get anything out of her, but she just kept putting him off and putting him off.

He didn't think Luthvian was evil, but she would break Lucivar's spirit, he was sure. He had promised to protect Lucivar and Daemon, he'd sworn to do so. He wasn't going to go back on that promise. He'd tried to think of anything else to do, but he could think of nothing else, and he wasn't going to let his son be taken from him again. He knew that Luthvian had been putting off signing the papers because once Lucivar was out of his house she could keep him from being in Lucivar's life. He couldn't let that happen.

From the moment the sun had risen Saetan had been slowly gathering his power, slowly lowering himself into the abyss. He didn't want to alert anyone to what he was doing, but he needed to gather his power to finish Luthvian. If she tried to take Lucivar away without signing the papers then he wouldn't allow her out of his house.

Lucivar stood by the door with Luthvian. His things were being sent ahead. A couple of servants were going to help prepare a room for him. "Luthvian, about the matter we've discussed," Saetan said, his voice like deep thunder. She shivered, Lucivar didn't.

"Not now," Luthvian said, waving him off, a bit of panic in her gaze. "I want to get Lucivar home and settled," she said.

"Luthvian," Saetan said, warning in his voice.

"Mother, let's go," Lucivar said, turning away from Saetan. "I want to get home before the sun set," he said, so much petulant impatience in his voice.

Saetan felt like a knife had been driven through his chest. Mother. Home. Lucivar never referred to the Hall as home. He never referred to Saetan as father. Did Lucivar really not want him? Was that what the silence had actually been about? That once Lucivar realized he could actually leave he saw no need to keep interacting with his father? That he'd only done it to protect himself?

Without saying goodbye, without Saetan even noticing because he was so thrown, Lucivar and Luthvian walked out of the front door. Saetan was left standing alone.

* * *

In the weeks that followed Saetan lived his life in something of a haze. It was similar to how he'd lived after Lucivar and Daemon had been first taken. In fact, the only time that Saetan actually seemed to engage was when he was with Daemon. He threw himself into Daemon's craft lessons. Daemon started really working with advanced webs, and he was fascinated. His craft lessons were professing just as well. In fact, Daemon was probably in lessons even longer than most students. He did craft lessons before he went off to school at Dhemlan. He had Black Widow lessons when he got home. After that he had home work, which Saetan would help him with, and then they would sit quietly in his study, both reading.

Saetan tried to just be thankful that Daemon was home. He tried not to make Daemon feel like the less loved son. He tried to give Daemon as much love and time and energy as he could. But Saetan knew that his heart was half broken because Lucivar had walked away. He couldn't help but question if maybe Daemon didn't want to leave as well. Saetan had thought that Lucivar had been happy, that he liked being there with them, but Saetan had clearly badly misjudged… he just couldn't bring himself to ask Daemon, knowing that if Daemon did want to leave that his answer would be blunt and completely shattering.

About a month and a half after Lucivar left, Saetan finally got up the courage to ask Daemon. "Daemon?" He asked. Daemon's eyes slid off his page and over to Saetan's gaze. There was still that cold makes that Daemon almost never put down. Saetan couldn't ask. He couldn't do it, so instead he switched to the other question that had been getting caught in his throat. "Is Lucivar happy?"

"No," Daemon said. There, blunt and shattering. Lucivar was unhappy, but would rather be with Luthvian rather than stay with Saetan. Daemon shut his book and Saetan was pulled out of his thoughts.

"Is he doing well in school?" Saetan guessed no, because recently Daemon had stayed 'at school' later and later, and Saetan knew for sure that Daemon was going to visit Lucivar at home during those times.

"Yes," Daemon said, a slight hiss in the way he said it. Saetan understood. He was doing well only because Daemon was tutoring him to make sure he was doing well. Daemon was struggling to help him too, because Lucivar didn't like to learn like that. It would be hard for both of them, but Daemon probably did it to help Lucivar not get in trouble with Luthvian… and yet Daemon didn't come to Saetan for help with the problem, in fact hid it from him.

"Can you… how is he doing… there?" he finally asked. He hated how weak his voice sounded, but he felt like a part of him was being slowly crushed hearing things he should have asked over a month about. He'd had no contact with Luthvian almost since Lucivar left.

"He doesn't want to you visit, High Lord," Daemon said, being very formal.

"Why?" Saetan finally snapped. Why when Lucivar was he unhappy did he not want Saetan to come visit?

"Luthvian told him that you threatened to slit his throat in the cradle." Blunt and shattering.

Saetan let out a hiss, anger filling him. "I did say that," Saetan said coldly. "I said that I would slit his throat in the cradle if she dared to remove him wings."

There was silence after that, Daemon merely looking at him. Finally, Daemon shut his book. "I'll tell him, High Lord," he said, and then he walked out.

Saetan let his head fall into his hands. This would be the price he paid… and he would just having to keep paying it, his pain for the pain his boys would carry all their lives. Would nothing he did be good enough to make up for his mistakes?

* * *

Another month passed with little changing. Saetan asked a few more times, but the answers were about the same. Saetan finally seemed to get the message: stay away from me. Saetan continued to spend more time with Daemon, though he never could get up the courage to ask. He did throw himself into finding Tersa, though. He would rather Daemon go to be with his mother if he would rather be with her. Right now Daemon had no other choice, and as much as it would break him to do it, Saetan wasn't going to make Daemon stay if he didn't want to.

"SaDiablo!" Andulvar shouted, storming into Saetan's study.

"What?" Saetan asked shortly.

"Tomorrow, you have to come to the tribunal!" Andulvar snapped, looking torn between joy and fear.

"What?" Saetan asked, looking a bit worried now.

"On the schedule for tomorrow, Lucivar," Andulvar said. "He's speaking in front of the tribunal tomorrow."

"He's what?" Saetan asked.

"Tomorrow, he's speaking in front of the tribunal. Damn it, you have to be there!" Andulvar snapped. Saetan had been avoiding his post for a long time.

"I'll come," Saetan said. "But I'll be in the visitor's box," he said. Whatever it was, he couldn't sit on the tribunal. He would never be able to judge on… well, he didn't know what it was, but it probably had to do with him.

* * *

Saetan shifted a bit in the seat. There weren't a lot of visitors there that day, just him and Daemon and Luthvian. Luthvian looked very pale and shaking. Andulvar was sitting on the Tribunal today. Saetan knew he couldn't have. Lucivar stood in his place, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his good pair of pants, looking up into the eyes of Lady Adelaide.

"Lucivar Yaslana," Lady Adelaide said. "You have come today to petition for emancipation from your mother, is this correct?"

Saetan felt his heart stop in his chest. "Yes," Lucivar said, clearly.

"Are you aware that this will entail you being treated as legally an adult, and that you will need to, from this point on, support yourself?"

"Yes," Lucivar said clearly.

"Are you aware that if we approve this, that it cannot be undone?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware that in most case, emancipation is not granted unless there was been severe abuse. So far you have produced no evidence of such."

"I am aware," Lucivar said. "The evidence I have to present is not of physical abuse. I cannot imagine that Luthvian would ever beat me even if she could," he added.

"Than what have you to offer in favor of your petition?" Lady Adelaide asked.

"My mother has no sense of what it means to be an Eryien, and in fact she despises Eryiens. She will never physically abuse me, but she will never provide for me the education or understanding that is necessary for my last years until I reach full adulthood as an Eryien Warlord Prince. She also will not allow me to associate with people who would allow me the understanding and education I need."

"This is a very serious petition," Lady Adelaide said. "Do you believe that being trained with an Eryien is important enough to become legally emancipated."

"My mother told me that my father threatened to slit my throat in the cradle," he said. Part of the room gasped. "And I was later informed that the reason was that my mother wanted to have my wings removed when I was an infant. I can think of no greater… kindness that he could have done for me at that point. I am Eryien in my soul and that doesn't mean much to people born without wings. But it means something to me, and it means something to my mother, which is why she reacts as she does. She's not evil, and I love her, but I cannot stay with her any longer… and because the court will not recognize that my father is my father I have no where that I can go."

"Your father, he understands what it means to be Eryien?" one of the council members asked.

"More than you ever will," Lucivar said coldly. "So, will you grant my petition, or will I have to start running away from home, because I cannot stay living with my mother any longer," he said. His voice had remained so steady the whole time, but now Saetan could hear real desperation.

Lady Adelaide sighed. "The law is the law," she said simply, rubbing her forehead. "But, I also cannot rule against my conscious. I cannot grant the petition of emancipation, and I believe the tribunal will agree," she said, looking at the council who nodded.

"So you'll just leave me there?" Lucivar snapped.

"No," Lady Adelaide said. "You are truly your father's son… While I'm not certain of the legality, I cannot deny what I see with my own eyes. I will be placing you in the care of Saetan SaDiablo, under the provisions that you will continue to visit our mother, and that Saetan SaDiablo is given the rights only extended to that of a foster parent. That is my decision," she said.

The tension left Lucivar's body. He looked over at the visitor's stand. Luthvian stood and walked out, mortified and so angry that she didn't bother to say goodbye. There was hurt at that in Lucivar's eyes but he still walked to Daemon and practically dragged Daemon out of the box by hugging him. "Thank you so much, Daemon," he said.

"Alright, alright," Daemon winced, trying to pull out of Lucivar's awkward and iron-strong grip.

Lucivar released him instantly before looking at Saetan. He looked so unsure. "Can… can I come home… father?" he asked.

Saetan nodded. "Of course, you always could have," he said.

"I know, "Lucivar said. "But I didn't want you to cross your honor again," he said quietly.

Saetan cast a glance at Daemon. "You two cooked this up together?"

"Daemon helped me get the paper work together, and my arguments," Lucivar said.

"Thought you provided the final piece," Daemon said.

"Can we go?" Lucivar asked, looking anxious.

"I'm sorry," Saetan said, standing up. He reached down, hesitating for a moment before dragging Lucivar into a hug. He'd not been so physical with either of his boys. Lucivar stiffened for a moment, and his return hug was awkward, as was his smile when he was let go. "You don't need to be an adult yet, either of you," he told them.

"Sometimes the world isn't that simple," Daemon said. Saetan looked at him, thinking one more time just how much of a mirror Daemon was. Had he actually freighted his son that day when Daemon overhead his and Andulvar's conversation.

"No, sometimes it isn't, but sometimes it also isn't that complicated," he added. "For now, I think it's time we all go home," he said. He couldn't quite get over the joy and the pain he felt at Lucivar's look of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I've been thinking about this one for a while now… so I suppose I'm taking a Sherlock break to do a bit of Black Jewels work.
> 
> This took me so long because I wanted to get past this part of the story. The funner things happen now. This was supposed to be two chapters, but I honestly hate writing Luthvian and am so glad this part is over!


	6. Chapter 6

Lucifer happily threw himself back into his life. It was easy. It was like those months back with Luthvian never happened. Okay, he still went back every two weeks to see her, and she treated him coldly now. He knew he'd hurt her, and he felt guilt for that, but his happiness didn't outweigh that guilt. She had been the first one to abandon him, after all.

He threw himself back into his lessons with Andulvar with a new passion. He had months to catch up on. Andvulvar was patient though. He'd always been patient, quietly explaining why things were the way they were, encouraging Lucivar to think steps further or try to figure it out on his own. Andulvar never made him feel stupid for saying the wrong answer or performing the wrong move. He would correct him and they would move one.

At school Lucivar felt like he was an idiot if he got the wrong answer, and he just wouldn't talk. He was the odd one, the one who didn't look alike at all. It was awkward. Daemon was the star student, so much so that he'd finally just been moved to a higher class level because he left the other students in the dust. Lucivar understood, of course. Daemon had let himself be held back when Lucivar was at Luthvian's. But Daemon took the academics like Lucivar took to fighting and Lucivar couldn't fault him that, even if Lucivar was alone for it.

The best part of being back was Saetan though. Lucivar finally felt like the man was his father. It was in small things too. Lucivar realized that thing he'd seen Daemon do that perfectly matched Saetan didn't just mean that Daemon was Saetan's son, but that Lucivar was as well. He'd figured it out when Saetan had been tutoring him. Saetan would tap one of his finger pads lightly on the desk depending on Lucivar's degree of correctness of the answer. This was something Daemon had done, done as long as Lucivar had known him. It was just a small thing, but Lucivar remembered it.

Before Lucivar would have been jealous seeing that move, but instead he suddenly found clarity. Daemon's desperate need to protect Lucivar when he was hurt came from all the times Daemon had seen Saetan react the same way. It was the same as how Lucivar had always wanted to protect Daemon. It was from something long buried that he couldn't remember. The day Saetan had quietly snarled when he found out Daemon had been picked on in his new class was the day Lucivar was sure that Saetan was his father. Lucivar had snarled like that when he'd found out earlier that day. That snarl came from a memory for Lucivar, something he'd emulated without knowing.

"Daemon will be okay," Lucivar said a few days later. Daemon had not spoken to either of them for a few days. He was used to dealing with things on his own and did not appreciate the insinuation that someone else needed to fight his own battles. "He's dealt with worse."

Judging from Saetan's sigh that was possibly the worst thing he could have said. "I know, but that doesn't mean that he should have to do this on his own."

"The idiot's just threatened. The girl he likes is in love with Daemon."

"Lucivar, is your brother having problems at school?"

"Do you ask him about me?"

"Why do you think we're doing this?" Saetan pointed out. Lucivar hated advanced mathematics. It was more theory than anything else. Saetan taught him math with battle calculations, how many men did you need? What were the odd given certain factors? That part was easy, but calculus was a bitch. Even Saetan framing it as a battle didn't make it easier and Lucivar had started dreaming about getting attacked by numbers and letters masquerading as numbers.

"He's fine," Lucivar said. "I mean, he doesn't exactly get along with any of them."

"What about you?"

"Wait, are you worried about us making friends?"

Saetan smiled a bit, and Lucivar realized that his father was proud of him for picking up what he was talking about so quickly. "Yes, that's my job."

"Well," Lucivar said. He thought about it, really did. "I get along better with the males who are training to be guards. But no one really knows what I'm saying when I start talking about battle plans… it's like that. I say something about Terrielle and they just stare, because they just have no idea… and sometimes… I really hate them for it."

Lucivar looked at Saetan, hoping that he wouldn't be ashamed of him for admitting it. Instead he just looked sad.

"I am sorry Lucivar, I really am. I should have gotten you and Daemon years ago."

Lucivar felt his throat catch and he looked away. "At least you came… Luthvian saw me and didn't even try to tell me who I was."

"Don't be too harsh on your mother. She had good reason to be afraid… and good reason not to tell you."

"What reason?"

"How would you have reacted if she had told you?"

Lucivar stopped and thought about it. He would have been hurt, and probably acted out and gotten badly punished. And he would have felt even worse because he'd learned how to hide the hurt of being a bastard, how to deal with being alone, but he wouldn't have been even more alone. People had known where he'd been and hadn't come for him.

"She does what she can. Is it perfect? No, but she knows how to survive, always has. You're still half her child, just like you're half me. Have you ever considered that your ability to keep going comes more from her than me? I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I tend to stew when something upsets me," Saetan pointed out.

Lucivar thought about it again, about who he was and what he'd seen his father do. Daemon and Saetan weren't impulsive, but Lucivar made fast judgments, and that was what an Eryien needed. He'd seen Andulvar do it, a lot of Eryiens do it. But he'd seen Luthvian do it too.

"She doesn't speak so good about you when we're alone."

"Our relationship I complicated."

"I'm not going to get you to say bad things about her, am I?"

"Not if I can help it, boyo," Saetan said and Lucivar smiled. He reached out tentatively and squeezed his father's arm. Saetan reached out and just hugged him, which was what Lucivar had wanted n the first place. Saetan had been giving more affection since Lucivar returned home, but only gave hugs when Lucivar initiated the touch. Lucivar couldn't explain what the innocent and familiar touch meant to him.

"Did girls flirt with you a lot when you were in school?" Lucivar asked.

"Are you and Daemon having female problems?"

Lucivar sighed heavily. "They aren't like the woman in Terrielle. They aren't demanding or mean. They're just… disgustingly normal, but short of saying no, they don't go away, and then they cry."

"How do you say no?"

"I tell them "No, shut up and go away.""

Lucivar scowled when Saetan laughed. "How about saying 'thank you, but no'?"

"Yeah, I've seen that fail for Daemon enough times," Lucivar grumped.

"Many of these girls probably haven't even gone through their virgin night yet, correct?" Lucivar shook his head no. "They don't know all the rules of etiquette. They're trying it out on you. At best, they're just innocent crushes."

"And if they're not?"

Saetan became very still. "Do you think there are any that aren't?"

"No," Lucivar admitted.

"Then try just 'no'," Saetan said. "And 'please don't cry', after that."

"Bastard," Lucivar muttered, and then froze. It wasn't perfect, their relationship was hardly perfect, but he was pretty certain he shouldn't call his father a bastard.

"I'm not going to strike you, though you really shouldn't call me that," Saetan said gently.

"Sorry," Lucivar said.

"it's fine, just try not to do it again." Lucivar let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "You're starting to sound too much like Andulvar. It's getting scary."

That caused Lucivar to laugh, his fears gone. This was why he liked being home, and the Hall was home. He was starting to think that Saetan really was never going to hurt either of them.

"How did you deal with girls when you were in school?" Lucivar asked. In part he wanted to avoid going back to calculus and part because he was curious. He didn't know much about his father. The man was ancient, surely he had some stories he could tell.

"I never went to school," Saetan said.

"You're kidding me."

"I assure you that I'm not. When I was your age it was far from mandatory or even encouraged for everyone to get an education, and it was far to expensive."

"But you… know so much."

"I had been taught by an old woman who lived near the brothel my mother worked in. She would take care of me during the day so I wouldn't get into trouble. I did get into a lot of trouble when I saw a boy."

"Really?" Lucivar asked. He'd never thought about Saetan as being a boy, or being from woman who worked in a red moon house.

"I was young, craft came easily to me, and no one was there to direct me. Also, many of the boys a played with, the sons who whores as well," he added with a bitter smile. "Most of them ended up imprisoned or broken because of crimes they'd committed."

"How come you didn't end up like that?"

"The woman who watched me. She was the first one to talk about honor to me. She had no family. Her sons had died in wars, but they died with honor and even though she was alone she was proud of them. She told me I should be like that, someone she could be proud of. She told me that I had a lot of potential, that she saw it in a web," he added.

Lucivar felt his heart hammering. He was starting to get some idea of what Saetan's life was like and he didn't like it. "What about your mother."

"Provided just as much for me as would keep her from getting thrown out of the house. The mistress had some morals, and her girls took care of their children. They couldn't afford to send us to school, but we ate and had clothes. That was better than a lot of others in our situation who would die out in the streets from cold or starvation, or have to sell ourselves for food and shelter," he said.

Lucivar's guts twisted. The last thing he wanted was to think of Saetan having been treated like him and Daemon. Lucivar thought of younger Daemon starving on the streets with none of the skills Daemon had, giving away everything to keep from starving.

"My life never got to that point," Saetan said.

"You promise?" Lucivar whispered. Saetan reached out, taking Lucivar's hand and squeezing it.

"I was fed, not always enough, but I was fed, and I had a woman who cared about me anyway. She couldn't afford to feed me or clothe me, but she taught me to read and to write and basic math and basic craft. She went with me to birthright ceremony and taught me what she could after that. And when I moved past what she could teach me she told me to go to the Keep… I didn't go until after she'd died."

"When did she die?" Lucivar asked.

"It was only about ten years after my birthright ceremony. I went late, and she had been very proud of me for my jewel. She had been old, and she just died one day. I found her. I couldn't bury her, and she had no family so I had to burn her."

"What was her name?" Lucivar asked suddenly.

Saetan looked very sad. "I don't remember. I remember very little about her except that I owe her my life. After that I went back to living as I had for a few more years until my mother was no longer required to keep me anymore. At which point I had no money and no skills. For fear of starving a caught the winds and rode to the keep. I remembered that they would feed the people who stayed there. It was a sanctuary, and I thought maybe I could barter work for food."

"The Keep," Lucivar said a bit wistfully.

"Have you ever been?"

"No, half breed bastards aren't welcome," Lucivar said bitterly.

"Well, far from being a bastard," Saetan said. "And I believe the term 'dual line' is more accurate, the keep doesn't care who are you. All Blood are welcome."

"Really?"

"My mother was a whore and I never knew who my father was. Neither did she. The Keep was the first real home I had. That was where I learned what I know how. They were how I began my escort training, a recommendation from Draca, the Keep's Seneschal."

Lucivar hesitated, looking at his father like he hadn't seen him before. He hadn't thought that his father would have had a hard life. He hadn't thought that maybe Saetan hadn't been wanted either. At least Saetan wanted them.

"Do you think we could go to the Keep?"

"We as in you and me?"

"Me and Daemon," Lucivar said. "And you," he added quickly. He didn't want his father to feel left out suddenly.

"We can go whenever you want."

"The weekend. Daemon's not going to leave just a big library."

Saetan smiled. "No, I think so as well. Now, we still have three problems left to get through."

Lucivar groaned but turned back to his work.

The Keep was possibly the best idea for a fieldtrip Daemon had ever seen. He wasn't sure if it was Lucivar's or Saetan's idea. Daemon had been flummoxed when he'd learned where they were going. He hadn't been able to keep the butterflies out of their stomach as the carriage came close and closer to the black mountain.

Lucivar had quietly shared Saetan's life story with Daemon earlier in the week when he told him about the trip to the Keep. Honestly, Daemon was curious about the place that Saetan considered an early home. Still, seeing the place was actually terrifying in ways Daemon hadn't expected. He was shocked to realize how much he still felt like a bastard. It was frustrating because he knew that Saetan was his father. Even if he hadn't been, Saetan's story assured him that he would be accepted anyway.

* * *

Daemon's heart hammered when they went in the front door. He looked around, wondering if maybe he would still be tossed out. His heart slammed into his ribs when he saw Draca, thinking that she was some kind of protector of the Keep, of course she was, but he hadn't expected how. She quietly accepted them, welcomed them even. She suggested that Saetan take Lucivar to see the mountain and she'd take Daemon to see the books.

"You ssseek sssomething," she said.

Daemon jumped, realizing they'd been walking for a while and that he'd been completely lost in thought. He couldn't help the slight blush that came to his cheeks. "I want… I mean I saw the birth records Dorothea kept… but," he hesitated.

"The Keepss records have not been altered, not by her," she said. With a swish of her gown she turned down a corridor. Daemon found himself chasing after her. She moved incredibly fast for some as old as she had to be, especially if Saetan had been a boy when he'd first met her.

Daemon suddenly found himself in a room of large bound volumes. One particular one was laid out on the table. "Wha?"

"I believed one of your would asssk," Draca said with a hint of a smile.

Daemon collapsed into the seat. His eyes instantly found Lucivar's record. "Lucivar Yaslana SaDiablo," the record read, followed by his birthday, his birthright day and jewel, mother and father's name. "Saetan Daemon SaDiablo." Daemon was stunned to realize that he'd been named after his father.

"I don't see my name," Daemon said, looking down the list for first name 'Daemon'.

"You are here," Draca said. She pointed out another named, and Daemon's world shifted.

"Saetan Daemon SaDiablo," the record read. It listed his birthday, his real birthday and the day he received his jewel. Daemon suddenly had the strongest memory. He had been so proud. His father had been telling him for weeks how he would take him and Lucivar after the ceremony, how they would all live together. He had been so happy. It had been day time, and a bright sunny day, and he'd seen his father and waved. And then someone said that paternity was denied. And Daemon had realized something was wrong and he ran to his father, trying to get to him as his father walked away from him. He'd screamed and screamed, but guard wrestled him to the ground.

When the memory ended Daemon's cheeks were wet. "Why didn't he tell me," he whispered.

"Because you didn't ask." Daemon jumped, turning and looking around to see Saetan had come in. "Draca sent for me. She believed that you would want to see me, and Lucivar wanted to ask her questions."

Daemon shifted away from Saetan, looking back at the record. It gave him a moment to wipe his eyes. It wasn't like Saetan hadn't already seen, but he didn't want him to see more. "You named me after you… but I don't remember you calling me anything but Daemon."

"That wasn't my decision. Your mother called you Daemon because your nurse called you Daemon."

"Mannie," Daemon said with a wistful smile. He missed her fiercely. "I don't understand though."

"She told me once that she was not going to call for Saetan to have both of us come to the back door."

Daemon smiled weakly. He had more tears to wipe away. He kept his back to his father. "Would you have?"

"Given the tone of voice, I wouldn't have dared not to."

Daemon laughed a little and looked back down at the book. "Tersa," he read where his mother's name is. It seemed familiar.

"A very gifted witch, Dhemlan. A broken black widow."

Daemon gasped suddenly. "I know her!"

"You do?" Saetan demanded.

"She would sometimes be in courts I would be in… she was their fortune teller," he said softly. He suddenly found himself re-evaluating his life. He remembered Tersa giving him the deserts meant for herself, or the extra food he needed but that his owner hadn't wanted him to have. He remembered her wiping his face with a cool cloth when he'd broken after a particularly bad session and had wanted to suffer alone. He remembered her kindess, and he knew that being broken if she'd said anything they could have destroyed her, but she'd given what she could.

"I never really was alone, was I?" Daemon asked.

"Not like Lucivar," Saetan said, taking the seat next to him. "Mannie stayed with you, and if Tersa really was there."

"Can you find them?" Daemon demanded. "Bring them here?"

"I have been trying to find Tersa, but I suppose if I could find her, then so could Dorothea," Saetan said. "But I can try to find Mannie."

"And Joe," Daemon said. "Her husband."

Saetan smiled. "Yes, I think I can find them. Anyone else?" Here Daemon hesitated. "Daemon?"

"There is someone else."

"But?"

"But…" Daemon trailed off. No one knew this, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to make the man vulnerable.

"But?"

"I have accounts," Daemon said. "I have some investments… here and there."

"How much?"

"A lot," Daemon said. He knew he couldn't lie, not now. Saetan wouldn't allow him to get away with it. "Dorothea knows about some. She takes some when she lives to far beyond her means… but."

"But there's more."

"There's some," Daemon said. He had to make sure that what he had in the accounts made Dorothea think that was all there was, and so most of it went into the accounts, but the extra he used to buy land and bonds and anything Marcuse suggested.

"You have an account manager."

"Marcus taught me everything I know," Daemon said. "But I don't want Dorothea to know about him… and I also don't want to move him. I haven't spoken to him in months, but I've gone longer without seeing him."

"Why don't you want to move him?"

"Because he gets his information by hearsay, by being around and the friends he has. I don't want to stop his work, because every piece of land I own allows me to undermine Dorothea, even if it's only a little."

Daemon felt nervous when Saetan went very silent. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, waiting for his father to do anything.

"I think it might be time for Dhemlan Terrielle to remember that their landlord is very real," Saetan said.

"Sir?" Daemon asked.

"I will not cross my boundaries again, but a strong Dhemlan can undermine Dorothea's influence just by its existence," he said.

Daemon suddenly felt a bit breathless. "Father?"

"We'll go to the Keep in Terrielle, and I'll locate Marcus and Mannie and Joe, and have them come to Dhemlan. Daemon, if you want to continue the work you've done before, you can, but Dorothea will no longer have access to your accounts. I'll co-sign them if I have to," he said. He had become very intense, but he suddenly hesitated and smiled a bit. "And maybe you'd like to start learning how to take care of a territory?"

Daemon felt a rush of joy that he hadn't expected. He found his arms around Saetan's neck before he could stop himself. He froze when he realized what he'd done. Then Saetan's arm slipped around him, and Daemon gave in. He wanted to be loved, it couldn't hurt for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: What? This took how many months? If any of you are reading this on AO3 for the first time, nice to meet you.**
> 
> **This is because I was working on my Supernatural/BJT crossover (which you should legit go read. I have this most amazing follower who's reading that story even though they don't know BJT at all).**
> 
> **Also, I just made up Saetan's back story, but come on! There's so much stuff that Anne Bishop could do with Saetan, it would be so interesting!**
> 
> **Okay, so now I'm starting to move to the next steps of the plot… man so many fiddly little details.**


	7. Chapter 7

Surreal ran as fast as her ten year old feet could carry her. Her mother didn't allow her outside on her own very often. They didn't live in a safe place. But today she'd sent Surreal only five buildings down to get a potion from an old healer woman. Titian's moon time was upon them, and she'd spent the past three months suppressing it. Even without jewels, Titian's moon time hurt terribly and she really needed medicine. Surreal had begged until she'd burst into tears to go and get what her mother needed.

Titian had said they couldn't afford it, that they'd already spent too much money that month. Surreal said that Titian said that when they gave a kindness they'd get a kindness. The reason why they had no money was that Titian had brought home a broken witch and fed and cared for her. The witch was why Titian hadn't been able to afford another suppressor so she could keep working and they could eat. Surreal said she'd go back to stealing if her mother didn't let her go.

Surreal had learned to steal from other kids on the street, and while Titian discouraged her, Surreal was very good. She'd only stopped because she'd gotten caught once and to keep from Surreal being turned into the authorities Titian had to sleep with a grocer and his son's every day for a month. They'd nearly starved that month and Titian hadn't allowed Surreal out of her sight for almost any of that time.

But Surreal was hard headed and while it had been terrible for that month she would go back to stealing to keep her mother from being in so much pain. Titian knew this, and she was in horrible pain, so she let Surreal go.

Surreal's feet pounded the pavement as she ran. She jumped up the stairs to the landing and pushed her way into their building. She ran up, up, up the winding staircase until she burst into the front door. She had the medicine. It had cost more than she thought it would, but the old woman was kind and offer to let them pay it off over the next month with a little extra here and there.

"Momma!" Surreal said happily until she faltered. The first person she saw was the coldest, most beautiful man she'd ever seen in her life. He was tall a powerful, and a red jewel hung around his neck. He was also at the stove mixing up something.

"Surreal!"

Surreal jumped. She turned and found her mother on the sofa piled under blankets. Tersa, the broken witch they'd taken in only a few weeks before fussed next to her. Surreal edged away from the Warlord Prince and then bolted to her mother's side.

"I brought it," she said softly.

"It's not necessary, not good," Tersa said.

"But I bought it," Surreal said. She'd just spent all that money and promised more for something that wasn't good?

"And it would have been as good as your money could buy," the man at the stove said. "But this will be better."

"Momma?" Surreal asked.

"Hush," Titian soothed, but her eyes never left the man. She tugged Surreal close and close Surreal stayed. No one said much after that. Tersa hummed and smoothed back Titian's silver blonde hair in a very motherly fashion.

"Here," the man finally said. He'd come over with a mug of something that didn't smell bad. Titian pushed herself up but didn't accept the cup. The man took a sip. "See, not poison," he told her before offering her the mug again.

Titian eyed him warily, but she accepted it. She sipped it. A moment later her shoulders relaxed almost completely. "Thank you," she said grudgingly.

"How many months did you suppress your moon time?" the man asked. His golden eyes were sharp. He found a chair from the table and carried it over to the sofa. A second chair had already appeared, and Tersa took that one.

"Does it matter?" Titian asked.

"Daemon," Tersa said. "The child is blood and should be trained in craft. She has the right to wear Jewels if she is strong enough. Daemon, please."

The man, Daemon, looked directly at Surreal and she found herself truly trembling in a way that had nothing to do with the drafty apartment or the snow outside. He was beautiful, and stronger than any person she'd ever seen if he wore Red. Surreal inhaled and suddenly realized that this man was different from any Prince or Warlord she'd ever met. His scent was stronger than a Warlord's, but Earthier than a Prince's. He was a Warlord Prince.

Surreal had never been more afraid in her life. He could take anything he wanted an no one could stop him. And he just kept staring at her. But at least he wasn't looking at her mother. She set her jaw and straightened up, stepping in front of Titian and away from her confining and protecting hold. She wasn't going to let this man hurt her mother.

"Surreal," Titian said, reaching out to grab her arm.

The man's lips twitched into something like a smile for just a moment. Then he called in an expensive leather wallet. He pulled out several gold hundred-mark notes and laid them on the table next to Titian's head. It seemed for a moment like neither Surreal nor Titian so much as breathed. Surreal knew she'd never seen so much money in her life, and she didn't think her mother had either.

The man called in a piece of paper and a pen and wrote a few words. He left the paper and a key on top of the notes. Surreal glanced over and saw it was an address and a list of something. She wondered if maybe the man was buying her mother, like a courtesan. She'd heard stories before from the other whores her mother worked with.

"This place isn't elegant, but it's warm and clean. It's a few blocks from here, in a neighborhood where no one asks questions. There are the names of a couple of potential tutors for the girl. They're good men who got on the wrong side of the ones who have power. You're welcome to use the flat as long as you want."

Titian sat up in full and tugged Surreal closer to her and away from the man. She showed her teeth when she spoke. "And the price?" Her voice was soft and full of ice.

"That you don't deny Tersa access to the place whenever she's in this part of the Realms. I won't make use of it, but Tersa must be able to the refuge I originally acquired for her."

Titian did not looked convinced. "This is all?"

"Everything has a price," the man said. "And for what I will give you in exchange, what I ask is worth."

"He is a good boy, he would not hurt her," Tersa said. She must have been having one of her lucid moment. She tugged lightly on Daemon's cuff and he bent down. She placed a kissed on his cheek and he actually smiled.

"Okay," Titian said slowly.

* * *

Surreal smiled happily as she headed home. Her mother's 25th birthday had just past and there was still birthday cake at home that Surreal had been dreaming of through lessons. Her tutor was a good man, older and quiet. But he kept his hands and eyes to himself. He was patient with her and had even instructed her in spells that begun to tap into her green jewel. Not today of course. She only brought her jewels occasional. Her mother and tutor agreed that she wasn't ready to use them yet.

She felt so much happier recently. Even though her mother had been more and more nervous. Titian's birthday had been good. Surreal had even been able to buy her mother a birthday present. Sometimes she thought that she would wake up and their nice home would just be a dream. But mostly nowadays she believed that how they lived before had been a dream.

Every single good feeling she had, though, came crashing down around her feet when she got home and saw the door was half open. Titian would never have done that. Surreal hesitated for a moment and prayed to the darkness that it was nothing that the fear in her gut wasn't real and she was just imaging things. Then she pushed the door open.

Titian's dead and bloody body couldn't be imaginary and couldn't be wished away. Her throat was slit from ear to ear and the nice necklace Surreal had bought for her lay washed in blood, just like everything else nearby. Titian's horn handle dagger lay discarded nearby with blood staining the balde. The walls screamed at her to run, run, run.

Surreal hesitated, though. She could tell that this would be the last time she'd see her mother, and she had a moment when she couldn't look away until the image was burned into her mind where she'd never forget. Then she ran to the bedroom and got her green jewel from where her mother kept it hidden. She swept up her mother's dagger as she ran past and vanished both. Then she ran and she kept running.

* * *

Surreal didn't go anywhere without probing the area first. Her tutor from her old life had taught her that. Her mother had taught her that. She normally ignored it, except that someone had tried to jump her a month ago and she'd shoved a knife between his ribs. She still didn't normally, but that day she felt hunted.

And so she was certain this alley had no one before she stepped a foot into it. She started walking down it at a quick pace. She didn't know what was after her, or even if anything was. She didn't have a sense of those things like Titian had. Surreal didn't have the black widow abilities Titian used to have.

She suddenly felt someone behind her. Surreal whirled around, her horn handle dagger in hand. What stunned her was the beautiful man she'd seen in her kitchen five years before was just casually leaning against a wall, watching her like she was a fascinating little animal.

She didn't think she just ran, ran, ran, like Titian told her to. That was why she slammed into a psychic shield. She probed it for a moment and found it went deeper than green, deeper than red, way deeper.

"Let me go," she snapped. Instead his hand snapped around her wrist. He caught the winds and dragged her along with him. Even though they were only on green she had still never even attempted the ride and she felt dizzy and sick. She clung to Daemon, desperate as she watched the world rush away.

She closed her eyes tightly, and only opened them again when they landed. She didn't quite know where they were. Daemon kept taking turns and twists until they wound up in a building in an apartment. Were they even in Hayll anymore? Daemon sat down at a table where Tersa had put food which Surreal supposed may or may not have been edible. Though Daemon picked up a nut cake and took a bite, so she supposed it was.

"Sit, sit," Tersa said. Surreal bolted for the door. She tried to push through, but it again was deeper than green, deeper than red and she couldn't get out.

"You should sit down," Daemon said.

"Screw you," Surreal said. Daemon merely raised an eyebrow and smirked. He went back to his eating.

Tersa took Surreal's arm and took her back to the chair. "Eat," she ordered, pushing a plate to her. Honestly, Surreal was hungry. She was always hungry, but had learned to live with it. But she couldn't put food in her mouth when that powerful man sat at the table.

"I'm a whore," Surreal said.

"Not a very good one," Daemon replied as if she'd just told him the sky was blue.

Every profane word Surreal could think of started pouring out her mouth. To her severe displeasure Tersa promptly made a song out of them and started singing. Daemon laughed, a warm, rich sound which sent shivers down Surreal's spine.

"Do you see what I mean?" he asked, laughter still in his voice.

Surreal grumbled wordlessly, but looked down at her food. She was hungry. She started to slowly spoon food into her mouth. Once she started eating her body took over. The plate was empty quickly. Daemon said nothing and Tersa kept singing her song. Daemon pushed a plate of nut cakes over to Surreal and she accepted one.

"I'll be what I am," she said once she finished the nut cake and the glass of milk Tersa had poured for her.

"I doubt your mother would have wanted you to take after her in this way," Daemon said.

"Screw you, don't talk like you know her. Where were you when she was killed?"

Daemon paused and Tersa went silent. "I am not very welcome in Hayll, least of all in Draega. I came to you at great risk to myself."

"Well, bully for you," Surreal said.

"I didn't know Titian was dead until Tersa found me and told me," he said. Surreal wanted to yell at him for that, but truthfully Tersa was a very spotty form of information. Tersa had joined them a few times in those two happy years. She forgot things easily even when you'd just told her. She may have found Titian three years ago and just remember to tell Daemon.

"So?" Surreal finally asked when the silence stretched too thin for her liking.

"Your mother shouldn't have died."

"I know that."

"And I should have been able to provide for you once it happened. I apologize for not finding you sooner."

"Again, so what?" She asked. People didn't help others for nothing. Nothing was free. She fought for every little thing she had and she didn't have much. It made her angry to sit across from a man who had everything and dressed so richly.

"Take her with you," Tersa said.

"I can't," Daemon said, his eyebrows knitting together. He turned to look at Tersa in a private conversation that Surreal could still hear.

"You can."

"He says that I cannot simply bring everyone I wish into Dhemlan."

"You are not your father, Daemon," she scolded gently.

Daemon turned around and sighed. "Are you finished?"

"What?"

"Eating?"

"Then we'll go," Daemon said, standing.

"What, where?" Surreal asked, her heart leaping in her chest. More riding the winds? No thank you, no.

"To Dhemlan," Daemon said.

That actually made Surreal's heart stop. Dhemlan had been in decline like the rest of Terrielle, and then very suddenly it became a hotbed of activity, activity against Hayll. If he was from Dhemlan then no wonder it was dangerous for him to be in Hayll. To get to Dhelman was to have a whole new, different life. That was what everyone said.

"What's the price?" she asked.

"I owe you a debt," he said.

Daemon turned to Tersa. "Come with us?"

"Daemon, no," she said.

"Mother, please," he said quietly. Surreal jumped. It had never occurred to her that the two were related, but when she knew it, it made sense. They looked similar when you knew what to look for, and the affectionate way Tersa treated Daemon, and the way Daemon bent to her will simply for asking and offered her a home wherever he could?

"No," she said. But she opened her arms and he stepped into a hug. Surreal watched the lines of his back tighten like he was in physical pain. She wondered just how crushing his grip would be. And then he let her go.

"Come," Daemon said. Surreal follow without question. Instead of going down, they went up this time to the roof. This high up it was easier to see what stars there were.

"We're going on the winds again?" Surreal asked nervously.

"Yes," Daemon said with a heavy sigh. "I will shield you, but we need to go faster, so this is going to be unpleasant for you."

Surreal didn't answer. He snapped that shield around her, the one she hadn't wanted to identify before. He grabbed her and pressed her to his side. Around his neck hung a jewel, dark and black as the sky. Even she couldn't deny it now. Then they jumped.

* * *

Surreal slept once they landed, or possibly passed out before they landed. Even on black, the trip between Hayll and Dhemlan was very long and it had been late. Surreal was going to say she fell asleep and not that she passed out because riding black was that overwhelming. She just knew damn well when she woke up that she wasn't in Hayll anymore.

For one thing her room was nicer than anything she'd seen in Hayll. For another there was a quiet rapping on the door before someone entered. She was an older witch, middle aged and wearing white. "Up, up dear. You've got a big day," she said before bustling into a room off the side of the main room.

"What are you doing?" Surreal asked.

"Drawing a bath," the woman called from the room, a bathroom apparently. Surreal jumped out of bed and ran to door of the bathroom. It was luxury like she'd never seen in her life and Surreal felt dwarfed by it all.

"No, I can do it on your own."

"Daemon said you might say that," the woman said with humor in her voice. "I am aware that you can, but you're about to have a very odd day. Just take the gift."

"I don't need it."

"Oh, the bath you certainly do. You're meeting Prince SaDiablo today. It would be best to be clean for that."

Surreal's blood ran cold. SaDiablo? She'd spent her whole life running from them and that bastard had brought her right to SaDiablo manor?

"And why would I be doing that?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Well, the High Lord isn't happy, is he?" the woman asked.

"What?" Surreal asked. She'd never heard of the High Lord.

"S. D. SaDiablo," the woman said. "The Warlord Prince and ruler of Dhemlan."

"Dhemlan?"

"Yes, where you are," the witch said patiently.

"Who are you?" Surreal asked suddenly distrustful.

"Manny," the witch said. "Daemon's old nanny."

"Rich bastard," Surreal muttered. "Why am I meeting with the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan."

"Well, what Daemon did yesterday isn't exactly… lawful," Manny said. "Not that the High Lord would just turn you away, but Hayll is looking for a reason to call foul and the Daemon kidnaps a Hayllian citizen."

"I asked him to take me." Surreal almost couldn't believe she was defending the bastard.

"They'll say you were kidnapped," Manny said. "The High Lord's just trying to figure out how bad the damage is. Besides, you'll be one of his subjects if you stay and he needs to meet you."

"Okay, fine," Surreal muttered. She looked down and realized that she was in a night gown. "When did I get changed into this?" It was certainly nicer than anything she'd ever worn before.

"I changed you last night. Don't worry. The boy tuckered himself out from the travel and went to bed pretty quickly after he dropped you off. He also picked out clothes for today."

"Am I his doll now?" Surreal asked, stripping out of the gown and letting it drop to the floor. She slipped into the water before letting out a deep and wonderful sigh.

"I wouldn't say it like that, but he didn't think you'd have anything to meet the High Lord in. He thought you'd be more comfortable this way."

"Yeah, very comfortable," Surreal said. She meant to sound sarcastic, but she really sounded so relaxed that it seemed like she really meant it.

Manny went away for a while and Surreal washed herself and wrapped herself in a towel. She found food on the table and clothes on the bed. The clothes were, again, nicer than anything Surreal had ever worn, a nice dress and chemise which were probably not things an aristo would wear to a ball, but Surreal couldn't help but feel humbled again by the quality.

Surreal ate breakfast quickly and when she finished there was a knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened and Daemon stood leaning against the door way. He looked every bit as beautiful as Surreal remembered and he stood out even in the beauty of wealth that he'd brought her to.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Are you?" she asked with a saucy smile. He winced, which surprised her a little.

"I already had my lecture this morning," he said. His black jewels hung around his neck like a beacon.

"Do you always do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Wear those out like that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked like her question baffled him.

She rarely wore her jewels. For one thing, the setting was nearly pure silver and so artistically made that she'd probably murdered for the privilege for wearing it. For another she didn't really feel comfortable with wearing her power like that. Also, it wasn't exactly good for business.

"No reason," she said.

The hall ways were as beautiful as the rest of the house she'd seen before. It was tasteful, though. It was all too expensive for her to afford, but it didn't scream 'look how much money I've got'. She found that she liked that, though it also made her even more jealous. This was the world this man had probably been born in why she'd always lived in the gutter, and her mother had done everything to keep her same.

"Why was your mother in Hayll?" she asked.

"My mother doesn't…" he had been about to rush into some explanation fueled by pain or hurt. She knew about doing that. Instead he took a breath and pushed forward. "You may have noticed my mother's mind is broken. There's a very good reason for that. She has trouble staying in one place for very long. I just try to make sure that she has a place to stay wherever she goes and people who will welcome her when she gets there."

Surreal imaged him having families all over like her and Titian, a place where Tersa could feel safe for a while. She wondered if all those families ended up like hers did.

"Here we are," he said.

"Where are we?" she asked suddenly.

"Dhemlan," he said.

"No, I mean, where, this building. It's not like SaDiablo manner, is it?"

Daemon smiled a bit and raised his hand to knock. "This is SaDiablo Manner, one of the original. But we who live here just call it The Hall," he said. Then he knocked.

"Enter," the voice said from inside.

Daemon pushed the door open and entered, holding it open for Surreal to follow after. He shut the door behind him. The room was shaped like a backward L and was filled with books. A warm fire place was going and Surreal could honestly say she'd never been anywhere like it. Then she saw the man behind the desk and she gasped.

She looked at Daemon and then back at the man. The man smiled and then stood. He took a cane and walked out from behind the desk. Sure, he was older, but there was no denying the resemblance.

"You didn't tell me you were related to him," she hissed.

Warm, ripe laughter filled the room, and for a moment she thought it was Daemon, but Daemon wasn't laughing. Surreal flushed and turned to face the older man.

"Well, I doubted he told who I was," the man said.

"You're the High Lord," she said. She felt childish for saying it.

"That is one of my titles," he said. "I go by many. High Priest of the Hourglass, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan in Terrielle and Kaeleer." Her eyes got wide, so Kaeleer existed? "High Lord of Hell." She paled at that one. No way. Her eyes shot first to the older man's shirt where no jewels hung, and then to his hand where a black ring stood out prominently. "Or we could just use my name, Saetan Daemon SaDiablo, at your service."

Surreal felt the ground roll under her. Two strong hands caught her and guided her over to an arm chair. Someone rubbed her back in a soothing circle while she pressed her face between her knees and tried to breathe.

"That was mean," she heard Daemon say.

"You don't want me to have my fun?" she heard the man asked. She would have laughed if she could get air in her lungs.

"Are you okay?" Daemon asked.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. She forced herself to sit up and look at the older man. And he looked wary for reasons she couldn't understand. "So, what do I call you?"

"You can pick from my titles, though most people pick High Lord."

"Can I call you Saetan?" she asked. You did not just ask an living legend to call him by his name, but the man relaxed and smiled. And she sort of understood. He'd been getting it all out of the way. How many people freaked out when they were introduced?

"If you wish, though I do request that you use proper titles in front of your elders."

"I'm 15."

"So that's most people," Daemon said.

Saetan shuffled into an arm chair near the one Surreal sat in. "Daemon sort of filled me in, but would you like to tell me who you are?"

"Surreal," she said.

"You're from a duel line," Saetan said.

Surreal hesitated and glanced at Daemon. Was she being called a bastard?

"I'm from a duel line," Daemon said. "Dhemlan and Hayllian. So is my brother."

"Brother?" She asked.

"Eryien," Saetan said.

"Oh," Surreal said, "Then I guess I am."

"So you know what?" Daemon asked.

"Hayllian," Surreal said self consciously. She felt very small. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear so the point became obvious. When she glanced up she saw Saetan's eyes on her ear. "And something else."

"Do you have something from your mother's line?"

She hesitated but finally called in the setting for her green jewel. She had quiet been able to afford to get it set like it needed to be, so normally she just called in her jewel. Saetan touched it, examining the setting.

"Is your jewel not set yet?"

"Can't afford it," Surreal said.

"We'll take care of that, then," Saetan said. "This is from the Dea al Mon."

Surreal looked up, hope in her eyes. "So, you know my mother's people?" she asked.

"Yes, though they are very reclusive. They don't normally take to outsiders, though I will make inquires if you would like to try and see them."

"I would!" Surreal said, excitement obvious in her voice.

"Good, then," Saetan said with a smile. Surreal blushed.

"You won't send me back?"

"No, I don't plan to," he said. "Do you know about your father's side?"

Surreal's face darkened. "I hate him," she hissed.

"Do you know who he is?" Daemon asked.

"Kartane SaDiablo. You're not related are you?" she snapped, suddenly eyeing both men.

"Not in the way you're thinking," Saetan said. "Though if you are going to claim his name, which you have as much right to as he does, that would make you one of us, at least that would be how the rest of Dhemlan would consider you."

"Most of the Realms," Daemon added.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means you've been adopted," a new voice said. Surreal jumped. She turned to see a cocky, sure Eyien man saunter into the room. He was dressed almost completely in leather and just looked like a walking pain the ass.

"Lucivar," Daemon muttered.

"This is my other son," Saetan said. "One of them anyway."

"Great how many more do you have?" Surreal asked. Luciver snickered and Daemon elbowed him to be quiet. Daemon, for all that he was a man, looked like a boy standing next to his brother. They both looked like boys.

"Just one other, living," Saetan said. Surreal turned around to see the High Lord look very old for a minute.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"It's not your fault. Time has a habit of marching on," Saetan said. "And though Lucivar may not have much tact in the matter, he is right. If you want it, you do have a place to stay, and a family."

A family? Really? She wanted to ask where they'd been before? Well, she knew logically they probably had no idea. Though they seemed to know Kartane. She didn't know them, and they were powerful. The Eryien had an Ebon-gray hanging around his neck. Doing nothing every single one of them was still more dangerous than she'd probably ever be. Did she want them in her life? Well… if they wanted her in their lives she couldn't really stop them. Saetan ruled Dhemlan and there was no way she was going back to Hayll or a Hayllian controlled territory. Plus, Saetan said something about Kaeleer… and he knew about her mother's family. There really was only one answer, wasn't there.

Surreal took a shake breath and let it out. "Well, I guess that would be okay," she said. Only a few years ago she'd only had one person, her mother. She wasn't that much older, though she'd experienced a lot more than she should have already. She was a child, but she had a family again. At that moment she really wasn't certain how she felt about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: I re-read my story yesterday, so now I want to update. This marks the first time jump. I mean to basically work on the entire series. So we're still in book one, and now we get to see how the main story starts to change. Surreal is very young in this part of the story. She'll get better in the next part. Also, we'll start to see Lucivar's love life and maybe possibly Marian.**
> 
> **I used some of the dialogue from the book. I figured it was just as well than to write everything brand new.**

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 
> 
> For the record, Lucivar and Daemon are about 17-18, AKA: old enough for Lucivar to be done with the training camps and have had his hellish experience with his first time, but not old enough to be 'adults' yet.
> 
> As for this story… well, it's based on _The Season of Grace Coming out of the Void_ by Min Daae. I think it's one of my favorite BJT fanfics I've read that aren't purely OC based. If you really want to know, I love the fics where it's based on old courts in Terreille, or new ones, or minor characters (like Karla). All the fanfiction I need about the main cast is in the last four books (yes, there, I said it).
> 
> Anyone who's read _Jazen's Tale_ (on FF.net, under teh same penname) knows that though I love Saetan maybe more than any other character in the series, I have so many problems with him and what he did, everything from how he dealt with Heketah up to the Terreille/Kaeleer war all the way up to his final death. I love him like crazy, but there are many points in the series were if he'd acted like… at all instead of moping he would have drastically changed the events of the history of the blood, or you know… not screwed Terreille over (Cause come on, could he have done this more?). The author has to bend over backwards to explain why he doesn't do some things, why there are boundaries he won't cross, or will no longer cross for his family… and yet he'll cross all of them for Jaenelle. Now, I can accept this for reasons (Saetan only being a man, Jaenelle being Jesus, etc), but it doesn't sit well with me. I really likes _The Season of Grace Coming out of the Void_ because it addresses some of these things.
> 
> That being said, this changes so much of the series and leave a lot ambiguous, and so I really wanted to play with it. Hopefully this won't be more than five chapters, but I can easily be getting myself into something insane… I'm just saying!
> 
> Fun notes on age: one of my friends approximates that 1 normal blood year equals to 70 long lived years, which make Daemon 25(ish) when he's with Jaenelle. On the other hand, it makes him 14 and a half when he first hears Tersa's prediction. If the ratio of age is 1:50 (which the normal math would suggest) then Daemon would be 34 when he's with Jaenelle (past his 'prime' for sure), but it would make him 20 when he hears the prediction. I'm running with the theory that ageing slows over time, which means that Daemon and Lucivar are at least younger than 900 (which would make them exactly 18 by the 1:50 ration), and place them well before Tersa's prophecy.


End file.
